


A Year to Eternity?

by MissNMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Curses, F/M, Klaroline, Love, Multi, Supernatural - Freeform, elejah, kennett, past kolvina, season 5 fixit, this started as a freaking one-shot and now is a notebook and a half long (and I'm still writing)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNMikaelson/pseuds/MissNMikaelson
Summary: Original vampires, malicious witches, lost supernaturals, missing memories and ancient curses… it’s just another year in the life for Elena Gilbert. Never mind the fact that she was supposed to be done with Originals and malicious witches and all the rest.She could have been done, but being done required saying no and saying no was not an option. There was too much to lose.Picking up in 5x12 of the Originals.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Kol Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson, Elena Gilbert/Elijah Mikaelson, Landon Kirby/Hope Mikaelson
Comments: 105
Kudos: 240





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own TVD or TO
> 
> This story started out as a one shot. I was envisioning a tiny little fic, but then I started and I couldn't stop writing. There was just too much for a one shot.
> 
> I'm around 60K right now and I've still got a lot to cover.
> 
> There may be some content that people might find triggering and I will do my best to remember to put a TW at the starts of those chapters. If I forget and you notice something feel free to PM me or even leave a review about it and I'll go back and add a TW to that chapter.
> 
> It needs a nice cover. I feel compelled to mention that I have not seen season 5 or most of season 4 of the Originals. This story is AU.

"No," she slammed her hands back on the desk. Her favourite pen jumped and dropped towards the ground.

He caught it without breaking eye contact.

"Caroline…"

She cut him off before he could begin with the flowery appeals and snatched back her pen and using it to stab at his chest.

"Absolutely not."

"Were I not desperate, I would not ask," his hand darted out, fingers curling around her wrist. "Please Caroline."

"They're children," she shook her head, backing up as she did until her thighs hit wood, and exhaled through her nose.

"They're siphoner witches; I could easily argue that this is what they were born to do." He gestured with one hand, making a circular motion. "Siphon magic from one thing and put it in another."

"And what exactly are they supposed to do with it when they take it out of Hope?" Caroline rolled her eyes. The very idea was insane. "You can't just shove a demon in a jar and shove it on a high shelf."

"You're misunderstanding, love," he shook his head slowly with a wry smirk on his full lips. "They'll put it in me."

"Right," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "I can see it now. You can take up yoga and practice mindful meditation while we all cross our fingers and hope you don't develop some sort of malicious temper." She looked him up and down and amended with raised brows: "a more malicious temper."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, a ghostly imitation of amusement that failed to reach his eyes. She hugged her elbows, sensing his next words, and tasted something foul on the tip of her tongue.

"Do you remember when you and your friends threatened to chain me up, drown me in cement and drop me in the deepest ocean?"

Recognition flickered in her wide shook her head.

"I was just a kid back then," she whispered.

"When your daughters put the magic in me, I need you to make good on that."

Words, promises made a lifetime ago, echoed in her mind. 'Great cities, and art and music' drifted off on a breeze, 'your last' seemed impossible.

She was meant to have a century or perhaps two before she let herself remember what the attraction had felt like when someone capable of terrible things for some reason only cared for her.

Decades were supposed to pass where she tried and failed to stop thinking of him, to forget the way his affection consumed her, but not a day went by where she managed to banish him from her thoughts completely. Snow fell and she thought of his lonely painting. Her fingers brushed the dress box and she remembered their dance. Autumn leaves crunched underfoot and she felt the scrape of bark across her shoulders.

She looked at Hope, beautiful, thoughtful, clever Hope, and she saw her father.

How could she take him away from her?

How could he make good on all of his promises?

How could she give him a chance when his social circle consisted of a school of fish?

And maybe it made her selfish, maybe it meant she was a terrible person, but after a lifetime of giving everything to her friends and the kids and the school she thought she deserved to be a little selfish.

She deserved to get _one_ thing that she wanted; just one thing.

Dammit all!

She deserved to have however long it took to decide she wanted it.

How could she meet eternity when her last love wasted away at the bottom of the deepest ocean?

"I won't fight you this time," Klaus' defeated tone drew her attention. "I cannot allow my daughter to die, but I swear that I will not endanger yours. Caroline, please."

She nearly scoffed again, as if there was real danger posed to her daughters. They knew how to siphon, and they knew how to place that stolen magic in new receptacles. Danger to her children, in their current situation, remained non-existent. She knew it and she suspected he knew it but worried that she thought otherwise.

How could he not see where her true fear lay?

"Caroline."

She thought she might have been silent too long.

"I'm begging you, and I never beg; I will get down on my knees if necessary."

That should have weakened her resolve, but it only hardened, manifesting in a clicked jaw and steel gaze.

"No," she exhaled, spinning on her heel.

"Caroline, wait," he snatched her elbow. "If the Hollow doesn't leave Hope she will die. The transformation tonight will kill her."

Her arm tingled beneath his touch, and if she had anything to say about it then she would have more time to interpret that feeling and the way her stomach swooped when he called her 'love'.

"You're misunderstanding, Klaus," she tossed his words back with more bite. "I'll get the girls to take it from Hope, but they are _not_ putting it in you."

She strode from her office with her head held high, offering tight nods to students and staff along the way, sensing Klaus on her heels as she entered the library. She immediately noted Hope's absence and assumed the teenager had gone to lay down in some vain attempt to reserve strength for the night. That didn't surprise her.

What did surprise her was the Original holding one of the books she needed.

"I'll take that," she stole the book from Kol's hands. Then she piled a blue and red volume on top. "And this, and this…" she pulled down books until the stack wobble precariously.

"Does it make a difference that I was reading that?"

She cut a sideways glance, sliding her eyes over Kol thoughtfully.

"No," she decided, "but I'm gonna take you too, come on."

She waved one hand for him to follow and didn't bother to look back, knowing that Klaus would drag his brother along if necessary.

"Where exactly are we going, and why are you taking me?" Kol's question came when they stepped into the afternoon light.

Caroline tossed the ancient books into the backseat of her car and turned to face them, arms crossed and features schooled into what Lizzie liked to call her McGonagall expression.

"We are going to Bonnie's house. I am taking you because the inside of your head is like witch-a-pedia. I am taking the books because they deal with malignant spirits." She took her phone from her back pocket and checked the time, mentally tallying the hours. "You and Bonnie will have until 9:33 pm, almost nine hours, to find some vessel strong enough to contain the Hollow - preferably for the rest of time."

Kol's 'oh-so-fool's-errand' came in tandem with Klaus' scoff.

"You expect Bonnie Bennett to help?" Bitterness curled his bottom lip. "She hates me, and I'm not going to waste what time I have when there is a viable solution."

"That's not a solution," she cried, tossing her hands up. She felt more the overdramatic teenager in that moment then when she actually had been one, but she didn't care. "It's martyrdom. There is another solution somewhere, a real one, and Bonnie will find it."

"Forgive me for not putting my faith in Bonnie Bennett, love, but she won't help. Will she Kol?" He snapped, looking to his left only to find his little brother gone and the books missing. "Kol?"

"It looks like he has faith in the fool's errand," she rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna call Bon, and you," she pointed to him with her cell phone, "don't even think about asking the twins to siphon for you."

"You can't fight this Caroline," he shook his head.

Her head bobbed from side to side, fuelled by the restless energy of her determination.

"Did you know that whenever anyone tells me I can't do something I prove them wrong?"

* * *

Bonnie opened the once spacious trunk and groaned, though she didn't know why. Given Elena's attitude to the entire situation the state of her car should come as no surprise.

"This is ridiculous." She shifted a handful of plastic bags, accidentally knocking the lid off a large tote box. A single glance at the stuffed interior, dozens upon dozens of clothes that could have only been packed by Caroline's hand, told her the cover had been precarious at best; she placed a knee on the vehicle for leverage as she compressed the material and snapped the lid back in place.

"I've been told not to lift anything heavy," she scrutinized the trunk for a spot to place the smaller items.

"Caroline gave you this stuff months ago." She gestured to everything given to and purchased by her friend in the last few months. Somehow she knew the bedroom she and Caroline helped empty and paint sat vacant in the Lake house. "Did you take anything inside?"

"The gift bags," Elena rested a hip on the car's bumper.

"Nice try," Bonnie waved a hand, "but those were given to you inside."

Elena followed the line of her hand and found Connor Grant, the up and coming football star who had been roped into helping by the coach. The man had sworn he couldn't allow two small woman to deal with the large purchase alone.

"Misogynistic pig," she muttered under her breath.

"Mr. Clarke was being polite," Bonnie snorted, amending her support when she received the side eye. "Sort of… in a sexist kind of way."

"Do you think this is going to fit, ma'am?" Connor appraised the packed vehicle, brows lowered with scepticism.

"Just slide it on top of the blue totes," she opened the car and flipped down the backseats, "push it forward and it should fit fine."

She guided the long box with her hands while Bonnie and Connor wrestled it in at the back. She suspected more than a little magic was utilized in the process by Bonnie and herself; somehow they had made traveller and witch magic blend to the point where they would have had an easier time without Connor, but then she would have to deal with the wagging tongues when someone inevitably saw a woman clearly in her third trimester 'lifting' a very heavy box.

The trunk closed smoothly and Bonnie placed a second, smaller, box in the backseat.

"See," Elena waved a hand, shooting her friend a triumphant grin, "perfect fit. Thank you, Connor. Tell Coach Clarke you finished your community service for the day."

"No problem, ma'am," Connor smiled and wheeled the cart back towards the store.

She wondered if he would be vandalizing the Salvatore school later. The big game was scheduled for week's end.

"Do I look like a ma'am to you?" Elena climbed into the driver's seat.

"Well, you are thirty-four," Bonnie fastened her seatbelt.

"Yes, but," Elena backed into the lot, directing the car towards the road, "between the vampirism, the cure and the coma, physically I'm only twenty-six."

Bonnie shrugged.

"You remember what it was like being a teenager. Anyone out of high school was an adult and if they were doing anything remotely grown up they were ancient." She smirked, gesturing with one hand to the back.

"So, I don't look like a ma'am?" She dropped one hand to her stomach, blocking the tiny limb from hitting the wheel. The car slowed to a stop at a red light; Bonnie used the opportunity to nod at the blonde girl leaving the Grille.

"Steal Dana's uniform and you're a cheerleader in trouble."

"I don't think it would fit," Elena laughed, guiding her car around an expensive looking Bentley and signalling to turn. Bonnie's house peaked at them from the end of the street. An extra car sat in the driveway; Bonnie failed to notice.

"Seriously though, you need to take stuff inside and get it set up because in the car it's useless."

"The moment I do that then I have to acknowledge that it's real, it's really happening." She chewed her bottom lip.

"Elena," Bonnie laid a soft hand on her arm, touch matching her tone, "this is real, and it's really happening. I thought you wanted this?"

There were moments her actions and behaviours matched her early declaration and there were times she said something like that and Bonnie would doubt.

"I do want this, Bon, I just… I…" she scrambled for words to explain and came down with the start of a headache. A tightness in her chest made her slow.

She parked along the curb muttering 'nevermind' under her breath.

"Why are we stopping?"

She sensed the concern in her friend's voice and clenched the wheel. Cold pushed outwards from her churning stomach; she shook her head from side to side, eyes lighting on an excuse that would get Bonnie out of the car.

"Original," she nodded to the door. Oddly enough she found the sight of her once enemy a relief.

"What the hell does he want?" Bonnie's green eyes narrowed. She fished out her phone, certain someone would have given her a clue as to why he sat on her porch swing with a pile of books.

The screen flashed three missed calls and a text from Caroline that she read aloud: _'Kol is at your house, or he will be soon. I need the two of you to work together for a spell to save Hope's life. Kol can explain more. Please help him. She's only got until moonrise.'_

"That's not a lot of time," Bonnie glanced towards the porch, sighing.

"Go help," Elena breathed.

"Don't try to take that stuff inside on your own."

She swore not to and took off when Bonnie got out, making it to the opening of the lake road before her heaves grew severe enough that she didn't dare go farther. She slowed to a crawl, and then a stop, miraculously finding herself in the driveway.

She tripped from the car and dropped, catching her weight on hands and knees. The calm wind picked up, buffeting her body with every heaved breath.

 _Panic attack_ , her unhelpful brain supplied; only she couldn't remember what to do, and that made it worse.

Pressure curled around her upper body, tightening and chasing away the cold.

"Breathe in, one, two, three, hold," a hand stroked her hair, "and out."

Elena followed the instructions again and again until her heart, her breathing and the wind calmed. Still, it took her a long time to realize her panic attack coach rocked them both, but eventually the soft sway upset her stomach enough that she had to pull away.

She fiddled with a silver bracelet, turning it over between her fingers as her brows drew together over tired eyes that surveyed the kneeling blonde.

"Rebekah," she sniffed, "what are you doing here?"

"Talking you through hyperventilation," she half-shrugged, leaning in the open door to stand. Bending at the waist she placed one hand on Elena's back and the other beneath her elbow to gently tug the brunette to her feet.

"Rebekah," she sighed.

How many years had passed since she last saw the Original?

She reached around the wheel and shut off the ignition, placing the keys in Elena's palm. Her head turned as she tapped her fingers on the hood of the car, focusing on the organized chaos spilling into the backseat.

"Who is helping you with all of this stuff?" She squinted at the fine print on the largest box, and then further to the many bags.

A faint flush stained her cheeks. "Nobody."

Rebekah's eyes snapped to Elena's impossibly round stomach. She shut the driver's door and pushed a button on the key, popping the trunk.

"Well, that simply won't do."

"What are you doing?" She recognized the stupidity in the question when a pair of blue eyes gave her the look as the heaviest boxes came free from the trunk, so she amended with a sigh. "Why are you doing this?"

"I thought that obvious," she walked to the door with Elena on her heels. "You can't lift these things. You'll send yourself into labour and have that baby right here in the driveway. I'm going to need an invitation."

Elena hesitated a beat, heart thumping, as she opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Her eyes flickered to the safety barrier between them, and she took a deep breath, willing herself to accept that the time of one vampire was over as she offered an official second invitation and directed her to the upstairs bedroom on the left.

Elena went back outside for some of the lighter bags, and if Rebekah weren't helping she might have rolled her eyes when wind rushed around her and she found the trunk empty.

* * *

Bonnie flipped through the pages of the grimoire idly, glancing at various diagrams and spells aimed at containment. Silas held the record for longest imprisonment at two-thousand plus years, but she lacked Qetsiyah's raw power; personally she thought the Bennett line had been punished for her ancestor's actions because not even Emily possessed the kind of strength to create and imprison two immortals.

Luckily, Kol wasn't asking her to deal with an immortal; he wanted her to take care of an insatiable witch spirit.

"I'm not well-versed in possession," she blew a lock of hair from her eyes, "why don't you just kill it?"

"To kill it you need to kill the host," he glanced up from the parchment in his hands. "In my opinion you and yours have spilled enough Mikaelson blood."

"It's not like you and Finn stayed dead." She cocked an eyebrow, flipping a page.

"Finn is permanently dead," he crinkled the parchment.

"Not by our hands," she held her palms out, demonstrating their cleanliness, "from what I understand that was someone else you Originals ticked off."

"Lucien," he tilted his head, "a servant who never could learn his position."

"Weren't you farmers?" The corner of her mouth lifted.

"Not the point." He reached for a red book, switching topics as he did. "And even if we did kill it, it could just come back again. It might be a week, or maybe a month or even a century, but it could return; next time it could start sacrificing again and grow even stronger."

"Then what do you propose we do?" She slammed her book closed. "She amassed power during her lifetime and after, storing all of the energy in her spirit. The only thing strong enough to contain her would be her own bones, but they would have to be turned against her."

"Funnily enough," he gave a humourless laugh, "that was my suggestion before we divided the Hollow's spirit, but we lacked a strong enough substance to bind it."

"Full moon not enough?" She crossed her arms.

"Think of it like the curse my mother placed on Niklaus," he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and meeting her eyes when she copied him, her sweet perfume tickled his nose. "She needed something strong enough to bind his nature, something that was already there that she could manipulate and turn back."

She played with the book's cover as she thought, turning over ideas in her mind slightly faster than the pages. A tight knot formed in her stomach; when she spoke she drew out her words.

"Well, what if we thought of it exactly like Klaus' curse?" His brows lowered, but he made no move to stop her halting speech. "If we had some sort of… vessel… infused with whatever remains of the witch's body then it could act as a prison." She pursed her lips, lapsing into a momentary silence.

"You still have to invert the power," he pointed out. "Turn her remains against her."

"I was getting there," she sighed. "Tatia's blood made you and cursed him, theoretically it's in every vampire, but that's another thing." She waved her hand. "Elena's blood broke that curse, partially, and made Hope possible; her blood is a really powerful binding agent. Would that work? It is an option you didn't have back then when she was in a coma."

"Her blood would work as long as the doppelgänger line endures," he nodded.

"Alright then," she clapped her hands together. "You find the remains and get Elena on board because I'm not gonna take her blood unless she's willing." She stood up and brushed her hands over her thighs.

"Why do I get the impossible task?" He groaned.

"The remains?" Bonnie guessed, tilting her head.

"Please," he scoffed, waving a hand, "that's easy. Elena will be impossible."

"I would start with telling her it's for Hope, and then advising Klaus to grovel."

* * *

"I have a question for you." Rebekah knelt on the floor amongst sorted pieces of wood and a mess of screws.

Elena peeked up through her lashes as she strung a pale seashell on the mobile.

"Do you expect me to answer it when you still haven't answered mine?" She finished off the mobile with a shimmering mermaid. "And if it's the distinct 'Little Mermaid' feel to everything then just know it was Caroline's idea and that the nautical theme has nothing to do with the Lake house."

"That's not it," she frowned, contemplating the hardware near her shoes. She selected the correct screw and lined up the holes, quickly assembling the base of the crib. "How far along are you?"

She placed the mobile on the dresser and picked up a quilted blanket, letting her fingers trace the outline of a mermaid's teal tail. She suspected the entire room would shimmer when it was done.

"Thirty-seven weeks," she used her stomach as a table, folding the blanket into a neat square.

"Thirty-seven weeks," she mused, affixing the front of the crib. "Why'd you wait so long to get a start on this room?"

"I had a start on it," Elena's protest sounded weak to her own ears. "The painting was done, and the dresser was… here."

"Elena," Rebekah cocked an eyebrow, putting the finishing touches on the crib.

"My procrastination drives Caroline crazy, and that brings me no shortage of joy." She knew Rebekah didn't fully believe her; she could see it in her shrewd blue eyes. "I'll answer your question when you answer mine and tell me what you're doing here."

"You know what I'm doing here."

"I have my suspicions about why you're being so nice, but I'd like to know for sure why you're buttering me up."

"What makes you think I'm buttering you up?" Rebekah stood, adjusting the height and slipping the mattress in place to get an idea of depth.

She had to admit her gratitude to the Original vampire who had put the crib together in less than twenty minutes; the task would have taken a minimum of two hours with her belly in the way.

"I haven't seen you in almost sixteen years, after I said some rude things to you at the Grille, and the first thing you do is set up my baby's room." The back of her scalp prickled. She watched the grip she used on the dresser for leverage as she stood.

How long was too long to wait for an apology?

Would the words have meaning anymore, or would they ruin the semi-cheery atmosphere in the room?

"You haven't called me a back-stabbing doppelbitch once," she attempted a smirk, but suspected her nerves showed in her eyes. "What gives?"

She stood on one side of the crib, guiding it with her hands while Rebekah shouldered the heavy lifting. They fit it in place so the wall art Caroline and Bonnie made from fishing nets and seashells sat centred above the grey wood. Her swollen fingers fumbled, attaching the mobile.

Rebekah shrugged and went about making up the crib.

"I didn't think you needed animosity after witnessing your driveway meltdown, and since you've clearly embraced your traveller heritage it's probably a bad idea for me to piss you off."

"I wouldn't say I've embraced it." Most magic she used consisted of garden variety telekinesis, not anxiety induced windstorms.

"You're clearly having a bad day, so we can get through one encounter without acting like bitches," she crossed her arms, bracing her hip against the crib. "What caused that?"

She held up one hand before Elena could answer. "And yes, I remember 'we're not friends', but you could use a person to talk to right now."

"I'm sorry," Elena blurted, watching the light catch on the mobile as her words cut through two decades of awkward silence. "For everything I did and said. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. We could have been good friends if I hadn't thrown the first punch."

Rebekah lowered her eyes; Elena's heart beat steadily above the fast flutter of the baby. Envy stabbed her, and she smiled around the pain she hoped would soon become a distant memory.

"Better late than never I suppose," she shrugged one shoulder and offered a small smile when Elena looked up. "Tell me about your anxiety, love, maybe talking about it will help."

She opened her mouth, ready to brush off what had happened and blame it on hormones, but Rebekah would never believe it; she didn't even believe it.

Her eyes flickered around the nursery, to the crib where her daughter would wake up everyday bathed in gentle morning sunlight, to the chair where she would rock her to sleep, and to the dresser where all of the clothes would go.

"Everything's just getting… real," she whispered, doing something she rarely did and laying both hands over her stomach. "I put all of this stuff off because when it was done I would have to admit that it's really happening. I'm going to have a baby, and I'm going to be a single mother. And it doesn't matter how big my support system is because it's still scary."

Rebekah nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. The true admission made sense, but she sensed there was something more to it, something Elena held back - maybe even from herself. She let her keep her peace and focused on what she could help with instead.

"For the first six months of Hope's life I was the only parent she had with no support system."

She hesitated a beat, curling her fingers and uncurling them before placing her palms over Elena's joined hands. Her earnest eyes met the shimmering brown with an encouraging smile.

"It's wonderful and terrifying, and absolutely nerve-wracking. You'll think you're going mad when she won't sleep through the night, and want to cry when you realize you've run out of clean nappies, but then she'll smile at you and you'll know that regardless of how badly you think you're screwing things up she loves you unconditionally anyway."

* * *

She resisted the urge to groan but couldn't keep from dropping her head forward and squeezing her eyes shut; nothing brought relief from the pain of black magic clinging to her. It rooted through her bones.

The rising moon promised more to come.

She wondered if it wouldn't be easier to take a lethal dose of hemlock and save herself from the agonizing death of a transformation she held no hope of surviving.

She burrowed into her blankets instead, forcing her muscles to relax. Tension lined her limbs despite the abundance of feather pillows surrounding her.

She thought of Connor's shattered windows and told herself that her lack of guilt came from the Hollow even through she knew nothing evil had influenced her actions at the car wash; the bully deserved worse than flash frozen glass.

Something involving broken bones and hemorrhaging wounds.

She shook away the murderous thoughts whispered by the darkness in her soul.

Things could have easily gone much worse.

Thankfully Connor had been out of eyesight during her lapse of judgement, and she would be dead before she saw him again.

 _You could go find him,_ a honeyed voice whispered.

"No," she mumbled, pressing her face into the pillow.

_Teach him a real lesson._

A series of images, each more horrific than the last, flashed behind her eyes.

_Make his blood boil…_

"No," she grimaced, fighting down a sob.

_Make him scream… make him bleed…_

"No." Pressure built behind her burning eyes, tears stained her pillow.

_Kill him! Sacrifice him and claim the energy._

She screamed, muffling the sound in purple velvet.

The heat in her bedroom grew stifling, blowing in a sputtering whirlwind. Paintings and pictures dislodged under the magical assault.

The soft lamp flickered and flared before exploding in a shower of glass and sparks.

"Hope?" The door opened.

Magic snapped back like a rubber band, making her body jolt.

She poked her head out, peeking between the throw blanket and her mess of pillows. She blinked, seeking some relief for her dry eyes, as he stepped over pictures and around the glass to perch on the side of her bed.

"You destroyed a boy's car," he plucked a piece of glass from her hair.

"Just his windows," she mumbled, shutting her eyes. "He had it coming."

"Careful sweetheart," he chuckled, swiping the moisture from the corner of her eyes, "you're starting to sound like me."

Before reading the accounts of her dad's exploits in Mystic Falls she wouldn't have minded being compared to him, but he was the villain. Yet somewhere deep inside her soul warmed at the words.

"How do you feel?" He felt her brow for any signs of fever.

"I'm tired," she sighed, "and I have a headache." Everything else hurt too, but that didn't need to be said.

"Freya made you something for the pain," he took a small vial from his pocket and shook out a white tablet, placing it in her palm as she sat up.

Hope eyed the pill and then the glass of water; bits of glass floated in the liquid, turning it into a deadly cocktail.

She swallowed the pill dry. Within seconds the tension in her body eased, replacing pain with dull aches.

"Better?" He cocked an eyebrow, handing the vial to Hope. "You can take another if the pain gets worse again."

She tilted it side to side.

"Can I take them all and spend my last hours in a pain free stupor?"

"Hope…"

"Joking," she tilted her head and held out her hands. "Mostly," her eyes dropped to the family picture on the floor.

"Well, I'm not," he held her shoulders, "these will not be your final hours."

"I've heard a lot of rumours since coming to school here," she looked up again, meeting his eyes, "but not one that said you were delusional."

"I've called him delusional for centuries, amongst other things."

Hope glanced beyond her dad's shoulder to focus on her uncle where he surveyed the mess of her dorm room from the safety of the open door, leaning in the frame with crossed arms and a tight smirk.

"However in this case he's not delusional." His gaze flickered towards Klaus. "How are your knees?"

"Why?" He frowned.

Kol pulled a blade, carved from bone, out of his jacket and turned it over between his fingers.

"Am I about to fall to them?" Klaus scowled, fury burned hot in his blood as he watched the knife he loathed.

"The knife is for Bonnie Bennett." He balanced the point on his finger. "We have a potential solution."

"Why do you say potential? What does the knife have to do with it? And why should I be worried about my knees?"

"The knife is to create a prison for the Hollow, and I say potential because there is a chance we can't pull this off."

The balloon of optimism and hope threatened to pop in his chest.

"To seal the Hollow away we need the _willing_ support of Elena Gilbert." Amusement sparkled in his eyes. "I'm asking about your knees, Nik, because you're about to grovel on them."

He could practically see the needle as it popped his bubble.

* * *

Eighteen years had passed, give or take, since her last seance. She took extra precautions but still she recalled the process utilizing less power.

Of course, Emily had been hanging around; haunting and lying in wait for the inevitable summoning.

She cut herself a little slack.

Pulling a soul from an unknown afterlife was bound to be more difficult, especially when that soul proved reluctant, but she had the power of blood on her side.

So she tried again.

And again, until a form flickered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own TVD, TO or Legacies
> 
> The amount of love I received for the first chapter of this story was just overwhelming, so thank you to everyone who took the time to leave a review.

He cast his eyes upwards and blinked, counting the logs on the building's exterior; forty beams stacked horizontally created the house's height.

A few centuries ago the home would have been moderately luxurious, and by twenty-first century standards of vacation homes it held a certain rustic charm.

Were he human he wouldn't have minded living out his days inside, especially if he could do so with the woman who owned it.

He could see it: a charming home, a compassionate woman, and hellion or two running amok to remind him fondly of rambunctious younger siblings. An entire life he might have had in another world.

He didn't anticipate much of a life beyond the full moon; only the promise of the dreaded black horizon remained.

He could live with that. He would live with that… for her.

The half baked idea formed in his mind long before bearing witness to his niece's lapsed judgement; it wasn't her fault, and he had a plan to deal with it, but there remained one single piece of unfinished business.

Conscious suddenly of the passage of time he allowed his eyes one final glance at the red convertible before he knocked.

"It's open." The familiar voice called from upstairs in obvious invitation; he made a mental not to scold her for it as he stepped inside.

Beyond the open patio doors water lapped against the deck, bringing with it the fresh air and damp earth.

He passed the cozy dining room table, caught the sweet smell from the vase of tulips, pausing at the foot of the stairs where he tilted his head minutely and met the guarded blue eyes of his sister.

She came down the steps until they were at an equal height and stopped. With a jolt he realized the guarded expression was a reflection of his own eyes.

"You're going to do something foolish, aren't you?" His stiff neck proved answer enough and she released a defeated sigh. "My idiotic, self-sacrificing, noble brother."

She looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes that she refused to let fall.

"Please don't do this."

"What makes you think I plan on doing anything?" He straightened his shoulders.

"You're here," she tossed up her hands, but kept her voice low so it didn't carry to mortal ears, "you're stepping into her human life because you think this is your final chance to see her."

"I'm just here to catch up with an old friend," he denied, unsure why he bothered; Rebekah could always see through him when it came to her. He attempted deflection instead. "What are you doing here?"

"You know exactly what I'm doing here," she scoffed, "just like she knows why I waltzed back into her life, but I've waited a thousand years. I can wait a few more weeks."

"What do you mean?" His brows drew together.

Rebekah hesitated, glancing up the stairs when Elena called down.

"My brain's not addled, right?" Her laugh sounded strained, as if she worried that were really the case. "I heard someone at the door?"

"You're not mad yet, love," she called.

"Rebekah?" He reached for her elbow.

"You'll see," she shook off his hand. "Tell her she's missing necessitates and I've gone in town to fetch them."

He stared after her a moment beyond the closing of the door and then walked up the stairs, following the steady sound of her heart to a room overlooking the lake.

He tried not to do it, but when he found her on her knees, up to her elbows in a blue tote, he couldn't keep her name from rolling off his tongue in revered tones.

"Elena."

She inhaled a short breath and looked up. The soft smile he liked to fantasize as being just for him bloomed, warming his soul.

"Elijah."

His name from her lips welcomed him home with whispers of a life they would never have.

"This is Mystic Falls," the corner of his mouth quirked up, "you need to be more careful about who you invite inside."

"I felt pretty safe with Rebekah here," she shrugged, "besides, with the exception of Caroline, I make a point of avoiding vampires these days."

"Do you want me to leave?" He motioned over his shoulder.

"I think I can make another exception," her half smile returned. "And it's only partially because your sister seems to have abandoned me and I definitely need help to stand up."

His eyes flickered down to her stomach as she leaned back on her knees. The rest of the room came into focus, making sense of Rebekah's comment.

"That I can do," he chuckled. Placing a hand on her elbow, he helped her stand and guided her into the grey rocking chair before kneeling and putting the rest of the clothes in the dresser.

"Don't get me wrong," she picked up a stuffed whale, "because it is nice to see you, but if I ask what you're doing here will you give me a straight answer, or dodge my question like your sister?"

A thousand responses filtered through his mind: 'I miss you', 'I wanted to see you', 'I needed to hear your voice one more time'.

"I thought it was time we caught up," he said instead. "The last I heard you were in a magically induced coma after becoming human again."

"Then you're definitely behind on the times," she chewed her bottom lip.

"Yes, well," he shut the drawer filled with onesies he felt certain once belonged to Hope, "when you were awakened I had no idea who I was."

"Sounds like I missed a lot too," she blew out a rush of air. "Tea?"

"Tea?" He frowned, snapping the tote's lid back in place.

"I'd offer coffee, but Caroline and Bonnie purged the kitchen when I proved incapable of not drinking it," she stood up carefully. "The other option is water or a decent whiskey that's been collecting dust for twenty-plus years."

"Tea would be lovely," he smiled, watching her place the whale in the crib.

She walked out of the room faster than he thought she should have been capable of in her current condition. He caught up with ease, finding her at the top of the stairs holding tight to the railing.

In the kitchen she put the kettle on to boil and reached into a cupboard.

He stretched an arm above her head, retrieving the blue mugs beyond her grasp.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Elena busied her hands preparing the tea and Elijah allowed himself a moment, one glistening moment, to bask in domesticity; they worked well together, gliding around each other. And when his hand brushed her elbow or grazed the small of her back her heart skipped just as it had all those years ago in Willoughby when he felt the jump beneath his finger tips.

The taste of her lips had haunted him since.

"Where did Rebekah go?" She asked when they sat on the back deck.

He forced his gaze up, halting his study of her mouth's movement. Sunlight filtered through the sparse trees, casting her warm eyes half in shadow.

"She mentioned something about fetching missing necessities," he sipped his tea and tilted the mug, glancing at the dark liquid.

"Necessities," she tasted the word, feeling the weight of each syllable on her tongue. "I didn't realize I lacked necessities."

"Have you run out of milk?" He smirked.

"I just bought groceries and even if I hadn't I don't know when she would have gotten the chance to look in the fridge and find a lack of milk."

"I'm surprised you didn't attempt to purchase coffee," he chuckled.

"Tried in the second trimester and got caught by Caroline," she sipped, shrugging one shoulder. Her tongue darted out to catch a drop from her lip. "She compelled everyone who might have supplied it and now I have to drive to Richmond, which is just too much work for a cup of mediocre coffee. And Rebekah was only in the nursery."

"Maybe she noticed something missing."

"She wouldn't be the first one," Elena stared out across the sparkling water. "I wish I still had her number so I can tell her it's not necessary; she did enough."

"What do you mean?" He set his mug on the table and reached into his jacket for his phone.

"Well, she carried everything inside, put the crib together and recycled the boxes." She drummed her fingers along her stomach. "She doesn't have to suck up to get the cure. All she had to do was ask."

"So you do still have it," he leaned across the table, setting down his phone and catching her cup before it could tumble into her lap.

"What happened to you Elena? When word reached me I expected you to sleep for decades, yet Bonnie Bennett lives and you're awake."

"You want to know how I woke up," she laid her hands on the table, feeling the warmth from his arm across the inch of space, "when it was made clear to all of us that any interference from anyone would result in a joint, grisly death."

"It is my understanding that you were to sleep until Bonnie passed." He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.

"There is a very simple explanation for that," she turned over her palm and traced her lifeline with her eyes. "Kai lied about the curse. He told Damon it was tied to Bonnie's life, but actually he tied it to Damon's."

She lapsed into silence a moment; a symphony of crickets and frogs filled the quiet. When she opened her mouth again a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow laced her tone, nearly drowning out the touch of exasperation.

"Care and Bonnie filled me in since I was 'sleeping' at the time," she exhaled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"About eight years ago Katherine clawed her way out of hell, and no, I'm not joking. She came with a rather solid plan to get rid of me. Mystic Falls came this close to being consumed in literal hellfire," she held her thumb and forefinger together.

"Obviously that didn't happen," he inclined his head.

"They dug up her bones and carved a knife that would kill her once and for all," she cringed and swallowed her urge to apologize. Once upon a time Elijah had loved her, and she spoke of her ancestor's death with no hint of remorse, but for whatever reason he didn't seem bothered, merely curious.

"What happened?"

"Nobody knows for sure," she shrugged. "The running theory is that Stefan did what he always did and played the hero because someone had to drag Katherine down so she wouldn't get away. Stefan killed Katherine and saved the town, and Damon tried to save Stefan, or vice versa. All anyone really knows is that all three of them went down in the caves and all three of them died."

"I'm sorry." His sudden admission made her heart skip. "You two were together," he answered the silent question.

"I don't know that we were at that point," her brows narrowed. "I told him to live his life which was as close to a break up as I could get without actually saying it. Should I have said: 'wait for me' instead?"

"What are a handful of decades to a vampire?"

"Arguably nothing," she shrugged. "I think I still had a human's perspective of time where everything can change in the blink of an eye. I still think that regardless of immortality."

He thought of his niece. The turning point for all of them. Their hope brought forth by what should have been a single act fuelled by bourbon and bad decisions that brought mother and child into their lives.

"You think that because it's true, and any immortal who says otherwise is lying through their teeth."

"How do I know you're not lying now?" She said, a teasing light in her eyes.

"I have never lied to you Elena, and I never will."

Her eyes flickered to his mouth and back up.

"Never?" She tasted scepticism on her tongue.

"Never," he confirmed. "I might have withheld information, but I have never lied. Not to you."

"You withheld information?" She cocked a curious eyebrow. "What didn't you tell me?"

Objectively she knew the amount of things he hadn't told her were innumerable; there had to be countless things he had kept quiet for the simple reason that the information was none of her business.

"I never told you that even on your emotionless bottom I could never mistake you for anyone else." He reached for his mug, taking a sip of lukewarm tea.

Colour kissed her collarbones.

"Could have fooled me," she murmured.

"I never got the chance to tell you, and for that I'm sorry."

"So am I," she licked her bottom lip, "for what I said in Willoughby, for…"

"That's not necessary, Elena."

"Yeah, it is," she sighed. The flicker of hurt in his eyes that day had urged her to turn it back on; she nearly listened to the whisper.

"I lied," she ran her finger around the rim of her mug, "it didn't feel good watching the letter burn, or anything else."

Her stomach twisted with despair.

Her covered her hand, gently squeezing her fingers. Warmth spread up her arm.

"Can I ask you something?"

She swallowed and sucked in a shallow breath, glancing up through her lashes.

"You can ask me anything," she gave him her soft half smile.

"Why did Rebekah put that nursery together?" He nodded to the house.

"Because I put it off until I physically couldn't put things together." She shrugged.

"And when you left the nursery you practically ran."

"Is there a question in there?" She took in a shaking breath.

"A couple questions," he nodded. "Why hadn't anyone helped you before now?"

"Caroline and Bonnie have been helping, but they have their own lives."

"Is there nobody else who could offer aid?" He frowned in concern, mentally calculating the distance from the lake to the hospital.

"Jeremy pops by from time to time, but he wouldn't have a clue how to do half of this stuff," amusement flickered through her eyes. "Ric does know, but after one too many grandpa jokes he's hesitant to step into more teasing. And then there's the fact that everyone thinks I already did all of this stuff except for Bonnie; she was with me when I picked up the crib today and saw the trunk of my car."

"She didn't offer to help?" He quickly questioned the wisdom in lecturing the Bennett witch.

"Kol was on her doorstep, Caroline wanted her to help him. I didn't hear the message though," her teeth sank into her bottom lip, "since my brain was hurtling full speed towards a freak out. You didn't know Kol was at Bonnie's?"

"No," he leaned forward, reflexively squeezing her hand. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she smiled sadly, "Rebekah showed up and calmed me down."

"And where is your child's father in all of this?" Unsurprisingly he felt a stab of jealousy.

"Non-existent," she shivered in a blast of cold wind.

He stood, offering her a hand up. "Non-existent?"

She carried the empty mugs inside, nodding as he shut the patio door.

"I mean, obviously he exists somewhere, but I have no idea where." She slammed the mugs down with more force than necessary. One shattered, sending half a dozen shards to the floor.

Before she could blink Elijah knelt at her feet. He picked up the sharp pieces with one hand and grasped her hip with the other to help her keep her balance.

"Shall I hunt the bastard down and murder him for you?" He attempted to joke.

"If only it were that simple," she breathed. A blush crept up her cheeks when she saw the mess she had made. "Caroline already made that offer."

"And you didn't take her up on it?" He stood, disposing of glass.

"I'd have to know where to start looking," she shook her head. The weight settled on her chest again.

"If I ask what happened, will you tell me?" His hands curled around her elbows.

"I don't know," she stepped out of his hold, spinning to pace into the living room.

"Elena?"

She grasped the back of a leather armchair and sucked in quick bursts of air, forcing herself to even her breathing.

"I don't know, Elijah," she shook her head. "I… I literally don't know."

And then her procrastination, desire to be anywhere else but the nursery, and her apparent lack of excitement, made sense; and it seemed unlikely that the possibility of eventually bringing another doppelgänger into the world was the root of the problem.

"Walk me through it," he placed his palm on the small of her back. "Tell me?"

"I haven't told anybody," a hysterical giggle, closer to a sob, broke in her chest. _Two breakdowns in one day. Nice Elena._

"Not Bonnie or Caroline?"

She shook her head. "They would have burned that town down for answers, so I told them it was a one night thing and when I told him he basically told me to go to hell."

"Will you tell me the truth?" He wanted to scold himself for daring to physically comfort her, but he was a selfish man; he would take every possible form of contact he could get.

"I suppose I'll have to, won't I?" She sighed, rolling her eyes. "You'll know if I lie."

"You don't have to tell me anything." His fingers worked a knot from her back. The level of tension in her body worried him.

Her legs shook, exhausted from hauling around the extra weight.

He guided her to the sofa and perched beside her, resisting the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He doubted she would like that with the subject he suspected invaded her mind; he wanted to kick himself for bringing it up and forcing her to relive it.

A fire crackled to life in the hearth.

He filed the knowledge away for later.

"You know about the twins?" She took controlled breaths, watching him nod. "They're gonna have to merge and Caroline's been looking for a solution since they were little. I go with her sometimes; the promise of channeling the last doppelgänger tends to loosen tongues."

"I can understand that." He shifted, accidentally brushing her knee.

"She got a lead, turned out to be a bust," she tilted her head, "about a witch near Almeirim, so about nine months ago I went with her to Brazil. She went to meet the witch and I hung back in case she needed me."

She stared at the coffee table without seeing it.

"I got a little bored, so around midnight I went for a walk near the river."

"Alone?" His brows shut up.

"I know the danger of walking along, and I thought I could handle myself." She waved one hand towards the fire. "After everything I thought learning a bit of magic would be a good idea."

"Did your gypsy heritage help?" He listened to her erratic heart.

"No." Her eyes took on a far away look again. "I walked along the river. I heard something break the surface. I turned to look, and then… then I was fifteen feet downstream, soaked through and my phone was on the ground with two missed calls from Caroline and a bunch of text messages."

"How much time had passed?" His mind scrambled for possibilities.

"At least three hours," she worried her bottom lip. "A couple weeks later I got a positive pregnancy test."

"You didn't consider the possibility before that?"

"I felt physically fine." She placed her palms on her thighs. "Everything was in place, nothing hurt, so no, my mind didn't go to that possibility. I didn't even think I could be pregnant until Caroline gently steered me in that direction."

"Where did your mind go?"

"Witches," she shrugged. "I figured witches saw me, recognized me, and used me for a spell before making me forget it."

"Not vampires?" He smirked.

"I was on vervain."

"And you've told nobody," his eyes noted the shift in light, signifying the sinking sun.

"Nobody," she exhaled.

"I see," he glanced towards the ceiling. Then studied her profile.

"Elena…" he hesitated, but ultimately reached for her hand. "Do you want this?"

"I…" her mouth opened and closed a few times. "I have mixed feelings."

She loved Bonnie, but she could be judgemental at times, and she loved Caroline; they were family, sisters, but neither could ever understand. She suspected Katherine to be the only one who could have, and even then she couldn't get all of it. Katherine would have understood half. Caroline would have understood half, but nobody would understand it all, not completely.

Elijah would listen though - listen and not judge.

"I'm a doppelgänger," she closed her eyes, "I never wanted there to be another; that was going to be my giant 'fuck you' to Klaus."

He chuckled, she smiled, and neither mentioned the way their fingers slipped together.

"But now there is a baby, so that's out the window," she tilted her head, laughing softly. "And I don't know how it got in there. I don't know if I consented and then was forced to forget, or maybe I didn't consent; maybe someone forced me because they wanted my bloodline to continue. And I don't know if I'm supposed to find the mermaid theme a cute reminder of getting knocked up somewhere near the water, or if I'm supposed to be horrified, but…" she trailed off, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes.

Elijah pressed a smooth navy handkerchief into her hand, nodding encouragingly as she opened and dried her eyes.

"But," her fingers crumpled the fabric against her belly. "There's going to be a baby. And she's real, and she's mine," her voice trembled, "and I put everything off. Then today I had to confront it.

"I told Rebekah I was terrified of being a single mother, which is true," she sniffed, clearing her throat, "and that's why I had the anxiety attack."

"You're conflicted," he smoothed his thumb along her finger, "and after what you told me I'm not surprised. I _am_ surprised that you're not sobbing right now."

She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "I just totally unloaded on you. I'm sorry."

"It's alright Elena," he smoothed a hand across her shoulders.

"No, it's not," she pressed her lips together. "You came here to catch up and I…"

"I did catch up," he swept her hair over her shoulder and pulled her hands away from her face. His thumbs rubbed over her knuckles. "I arguably know more than your friends."

"No arguing about it because you do know more," her nose wrinkled as her lips parted slightly. "Why are you really here? I might have bought catching up if you hadn't looked like you wanted to say a million other things."

"Am I that easily read?"

"I'm getting better at it," she twisted in place, releasing his hands as she readjusted. "What's going on? Why today? And what did you mean you didn't know who you were? You said you'd never lie to me," she reminded with a watery smile.

"I did say that," he lowered his eyes, nodding. "I had my memory removed so I wouldn't be a danger to my family and I came here today because it's the last chance I'll get to speak with you."

The teasing sparkle left her eyes.

"What do you mean?" She swallowed.

"A darkness has taken hold of my niece," he sighed, watching the shift of her stomach. A lump rose beneath her shirt as the baby stretched in the cramped space. "It's killing her; she won't survive the full moon tonight."

"Th-that's horrible," she gently touched his arm, "but I don't understand the connection."

"I took her to lunch today and overheard a conversation I wasn't meant to."

"Eavesdropper," she accused, attempting to lift the dread from her shoulders.

"Niklaus plans to have Caroline's girls move the Hollow - that's the darkness my siblings and I took into ourselves years ago, and the reason I forgot everything - into him. Then he wants her to subdue him and drop him at the bottom of the ocean. I can't let him do that."

She couldn't see Caroline being onboard with the plan, and she wouldn't have wished that fate on Klaus anymore, but if it came to a choice between brothers she knew who she would pick.

"Don't do this Elijah," fresh tears welled in her eyes. She lost too many people to martyrdom; he was meant to be there, always somewhere.

"You don't even know what I'm planning," his rueful smile failed to reach his eyes.

"Like hell I don't," she cried, digging her nails into his soft jacket. "You do things you abhor to protect your family all the time, and now you're thinking you'll take Klaus' place. I get that you want to protect them; I understand it, but not like this. Find another way."

"There is no other way," he shook his head, catching the crunch of tires over gravel.

The speed she utilized to stand shocked them almost as much as the vehemence in her voice.

"There's always another way!" Heat flashed in her eyes; it dissipated a bit when her front door swung open. Her brows rose, shooting towards her hairline. "Care?"

"Hey," she grinned, striding into the living room. She took in Elijah's presence, but made no comment on her best friend's company. "Did you pick up popcorn?"

"Yeah," she crossed her arms over her stomach, "why?"

"Because this is going to be seriously amusing," her eyes glittered, jumping from green to blue and back.

Elena opened her mouth to ask, but a clipped accent cut off her voice.

"You're taking far too much pleasure in this, love."

"Not yet," Caroline smirked, "but I guarantee that I will."

* * *

"You need to relax," Kol scolded, lightly clapping a hand on her knee. "Lighten up."

"How am I supposed to do that?" She scoffed through a bemused smile.

He never wanted to see such a forlorn expression on her face; she was meant to be protected and kept far from the horrific company their family made a habit of keeping. His dead heart broke to see so much cynicism in one so young.

"My life hangs on my dad's ability to convince a woman who hates him, whose aunt he murdered in a ritual that should have killed her too, to help him."

"Don't count him out yet, bunny."

"I'm going to die in a few hours," she rolled her eyes, staring out over the town square. "She's not going to want to help him."

He tapped his fingers against the bench and watched the revelry of the teenagers along with the rest of the town. It still surprised him, though it probably shouldn't have, how little the town had changed. He half expected the quarterback to materialize on his periphery in a letterman jacket, but of course he now held the office of Sheriff.

"She might hate Nik." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "She might deny Nik. She could hear it out from Rebekah. Her guilt may sway her to say yes to me, though I doubt it. There is, however, one person she will say yes to."

Hope's eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and gripped the underside of the bench, driving a splinter into her index finger. "Caroline?"

Caroline Forbes possessed a single minded determination that led them to the breakthrough, and as Elena's best friend she held the doppelgängers ear, but he doubted even Caroline could turn her set mind.

The hatred for Klaus ran deep.

"Sure," the corner of his mouth quirked up.

From the edge of the square, on the fringe of the concert crowd, a teenage boy stole a glance in their direction; his fifth since they sat down, not that Kol deliberately kept count. The boy simply proved impossible to miss for anyone whose attention was not consumed by her impending death.

"Don't look now, darling," he teased, "but there is a kicked puppy that keeps looking at you." The statement succeeded in distracting her. He watched her face pop up and flood with heat and a tiny smile. "Is this possibly a puppy you didn't mean to kick?"

"He's not a puppy," she murmured.

"Oh, you like him," he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Shall I inquire as to his intentions? Perhaps discuss a dowry?"

"You're not half as funny as you think you are," she told her shoes.

"I'm hilarious and you know it." An idea took shape in his mind; he hoped it would be a fitting distraction. "Why don't you go and talk to him? He doesn't look like he bites. Go on and have some fun."

"What's the point?" She shook her head, but her muscles bunched, ready to stand and approach.

"The point, little witch, is that you're fifteen years old and you're alive and you deserve to have some fun with a boy you like while your beloved uncle makes him uncomfortable with threatening stares." He chuckled and smoothed out his features. "I do a wonderful imitation of a deranged psychopath."

"Is that because you are one?" She cocked an eyebrow, increasing her resemblance to her father.

"Less so these days," he smirked and brought one hand around to the small of her back, "go on. Have some fun."

Hope got to her feet rather than let him shove her to the ground. Her nails picked at her finger, pulling the splinter out; it stung, burning in the evening air. She glanced over her shoulder and received a shooing motion for the effort.

With her heart in her throat she sucked in a shallow breath and left, skirting around the people listening to the music.

Landon glanced around as she approached him, tearing his poor concentration from the dancing couples. His shock morphed into a shy smile.

Butterflies swarmed in her belly, making her steps falter. She sensed if she looked back she would find one uncle resembling a cat with a canary.

"Hey." She cringed at the breathlessness of her voice. Fuel for the teasing fire, but then again, she'd be dead in a few hours so it didn't matter.

"Hey." His voice matched hers and that brought a modicum of comfort.

"I thought you had to be somewhere tonight."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, slipping her hands into her pockets, "it turns out that somewhere was the town square with my uncle."

"You're uncle?" His eyes widened when she nodded. "He's young."

"He's older than he looks," she snickered, considering turning to give him a quick smirk. "I'm here for a little while, but I do have a curfew soon."

"Private school doesn't want you hanging out with the town riffraff too late?" He teased. "Shocking."

"Trust me," she laughed, "there's plenty of riffraff behind the gates."

He laughed, ducking his head.

"So, uh," he spoke to his shoes, "you know that jerk from the Grille?"

He looked up and she nodded.

"Apparently he wrecked his car today."

She had to bite her lip to hide her grin she knew matched Kol's.

"And now you're here, and the music's good, so before my luck runs out, which it will…"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you… uh… want to dance or something?"

"You want to dance with me?" Her brows shot up. Nobody had ever asked her to dance outside of family, and she hadn't felt inclined to do much dancing at the wedding.

"Fair warning," he started babbling, "I might suck at it, and I haven't really thought this whole thing through. Kind of living in the moment here," he shrugged his shoulders.

"I…" she hesitated, biting her lip. "You know I should probably do more of that myself."

She held out her hand, nodding as they moved into a simple form and swayed. When they turned she half expected to find Kol glaring at Landon like he promised. Instead she found his nodding head bent over a sheet of paper and Bonnie Bennett beside him, turning over the bone knife between her hands.

* * *

"I wish we had more time," Bonnie murmured, running her finger over the dark object. A vial burned a hole in her pocket.

"You can seal it in the knife with Elena's blood," he made minute adjustments with a pencil.

"I know, and I know it'll work," she sighed. "I just wish we could have found something less… pointy."

"Pointy?" He laughed, turning to face her.

"Don't mock me," she elbowed him lightly, "this is still going to be a dangerous thing. Made all the worse by the evil spirit we're going to stick inside it."

"I know, love," he sobered. "I wish we had a little more time too, but Elena's blood will seal it and we can lock the knife up. Given more time we could have broken down the components and forged a box of sorts, but," his eyes found his niece, "we're short on time."

"I know," she reached into her pocket for her buzzing phone. "It's Caroline."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest, I've got three additional subplots worked into this fixit fic. Two of them are going to be fairly obvious, but if I do this right (the way I want to) then the last one involving Bonnie won't be made clear until the last few chapters of the story.
> 
> There will be hints for it throughout though. Maybe some of you can guess.


	3. Chapter 3

Elena’s eyes darted from Caroline to Klaus curiously before settling on Elijah’s confused expression; he had no idea what his brother was doing at her house either.

“What’s going to be amusing?” She pressed a hand to her back, applying a light pressure to the ache near the base of her spine and mentally scolding herself for leaping to her feet so quickly.

She focused her gaze on Klaus, turning to face him fully. “What are you doing here?”

She thought she did an astounding job of keeping any and all accusations from her tone.

“Perhaps you could invite me in, love,” he pushed a hand against the barrier, “so I’m not speaking across the length of your house.”

“Are you going to threaten to burn my house to the ground if I don’t?” She arched an eyebrow, hearing the snide inflection in her voice.

The baby tapped out a staccato rhythm on her ribs.

As much as she wanted to deny him entry and step outside for whatever conversation he had in mind she decided against it, knowing she would live to regret her impulsive decision made by tired limbs.

“Come on in.”

He stepped inside and moved to the living room without pausing to look around.

“What do you want Klaus?” She crossed her arms over her stomach, feeling suddenly like a beached whale.

“What I want is your blood.”

Elena clicked her tongue. “Saw that one coming from a mile away.”

“I need it for a spell,” his jaw clicked. “Bonnie Bennett will only do it if you give your blood willingly.”

“You expect me to give you my blood for another spell?” Heat rose in her cheeks, but with it came a powerful sense of control. “You murdered my mother and my aunt, you indirectly killed my father, terrorized my town, used me as a human blood bag and you were going to kill me again. Do you really think I’m going to give you anything you want?”

“I’m sorry...”

She cut him off with a wry laugh. Her words came out sharp, ringing with a truth they all knew. “Oh please, we both know you’d do it again in a heartbeat without batting an eye.”

“You’re right,” he nodded solemnly, “I would, and I regret nothing with the exception of your aunt. That was an unfortunate necessity to draw you out after Damon’s interference.”

“That interference saved Tyler and Caroline.” His eyes widened. She wondered if he had ever known the first vampire Katherine provided him was Caroline. Would he have been able to kill her, or would he have been as captivated that first night as he was when he couldn’t let her die from Tyler’s bite?

From the corner of her eye she watched Caroline perch on the arm of the sofa and motion with her hand. A sharp backwards jab that Elijah steadfastly ignored. She felt his presence at her elbow.

Klaus shifted closer, staring into her hard eyes.

She knew he didn’t regret it. He would never regret it. For a thousand years he had been cut off from a part of who he was, denied his heritage. A piece of him had been missing and in a weird way she got it. Maybe if he had gone about things differently, asked for her help and provided Elijah’s elixir, she might have participated willingly - so long as nobody innocent filled the other roles: Kai Parker would have made an excellent candidate; she couldn’t say the world would have been worse off without him.

Of course nobody could ever hope to know.

The past was past.

“Elena, please?”

Her name sounded as foreign on his tongue as the show of manners. ‘Love’, ‘my lovely’, ‘doppelgänger’ and ‘my girl’ were his preferred monikers for her, but ‘Elena’ had only crossed his lips once. She remembered it clearly, the cold night, the lick of fire, and the numbing emptiness as Jenna’s death sank in; the sincerity with which he had thanked her remained nothing short of shocking. It was one of the few moments she had ever seen him vulnerable with his emotions laid bare.

She tried not to show how much her name affected her.

“She and Kol have found a way to save my daughter, and it requires your blood, willingly given,” he took a deep breath to help force out his words. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

She gripped her upper arms and narrowed her eyes at the man who had blown into her life and laid it in ruins at her feet. Every death caused by his siblings and even Katherine could be linked back to him and his curse breaking crusade. The sorrow he had caused still hit her from time to time at the oddest moments.

And now she had the opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. The life of someone he loved rested in her hands.

She imagined saying no and the rush of power that would give her. None of her friends would blame her for the decision; Elijah wouldn’t begrudge her for the choice, despite what it would mean for his family.

“I need your help, Elena, please?” She could have sworn she saw moisture in his eyes.

She was well within her rights to say no.

She had earned that no.

And then there was the flip side. Klaus might be a dick, and the evil hybrid who destroyed her sleepy little town, but his daughter was innocent. Hope Mikaelson was a fifteen year old with her life ahead of her and a father who loved her more than anything; the man had been willing to sacrifice his life so she could live.

And she’d already lost her mother.

Not that Elijah had any intention of letting her lose her father too.

“I’m begging you.”

She knew she couldn’t say no. 

* * *

Elena shivered in the blast of cold air and leaned forward to close the vents. The swell of her belly made the motion awkward and knocked her purse to the floor. She blinked down, between what she could see of her feet, considered bending to retrieve it and came to the decision neither she nor the baby would enjoy the experience. 

“You know,” she walked her fingers across her stomach, earning a kick with every touch, “my car has the ventilation perfectly set, and my stomach doesn’t get in the way of driving.”

“Yes, but if you were in your car, driving by yourself, I would be returning to the school with Klaus and be unable to grill you with questions.” Caroline signalled to turn. Her eyes drifted to the rearview mirror for a glimpse of the Bentley’s headlights where two Originals followed them close enough to hear; she flipped on the radio. Jazz filled the car. “You really disappointed me back there.”

Elena adjusted the seatbelt, stopping it from digging into her windpipe.

“You thought I’d refuse to help Hope?” Her brows rose into her hairline, nearly disappearing behind her side swept bangs.

“Of course not,” she scoffed, rolling her neck around for Elena to see her expression.

“I knew that you’d help. She’s just a kid, so you were obviously going to help her. I just figured you’d make Klaus work for it a little more. Is it wrong that I was looking forward to watching him beg, and seeing you deny him? I thought for sure we’d have to utilize Elijah’s persuasive skills at some point.”

Caroline slowed for a stop sign and checked both directions before rolling into the intersection.

“I thought you’d be tickled pink by the thought of Klaus incased in concrete somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.” Her jaw clicked.

“You really think Elijah would have let him go through with it?” She braced her forehead on the window and caught a glimpse of his dark outline in the mirror.

Her breath fogged up the glass: “stupid, freaking, martyr.”

“I’m gonna let that one go,” Caroline glanced over.

Elena flushed and blamed the pregnancy hormones for her next words because she refused to be the only one blushing in the car.

“If you’re so eager to hear Klaus beg for anything, I’m sure you could think of something else that will have him pleading harder with each subsequent denial.”

Caroline’s alabaster cheeks burned red.

Elena smirked. “You’ve thought about it,” she tittered, “minus utilizing Elijah’s persuasive talents.”

“You’ve thought about Elijah’s persuasive talents,” Caroline shot back.

It made little sense in terms of what they alluded to, but Elena understood the middle school comeback, so rather than burst into giggles her flush deepened; she cursed the day she told Caroline about her recurring dream that had only gotten steamier with the addition of hormones.

“You’re cruel,” she ducked, hiding her embarrassed grin.

“You started it,” she tossed her hands up from the wheel for a second in a shrug. “What was Elijah doing at your place?”

“Catching up.”

“Not turning your fantasy into a reality?”

“Of course not!” Her heart thundered loudly in her ears. He had of course fulfilled one of her dreams, but since the domestic fantasies had never been shared with Caroline her words remained true.

“So, Elijah decides he’s gonna play self-sacrificing big brother and instead of spending his last hours on earth with his family he goes to visit you?” Caroline leaned against the headrest.

“What’s your point?” Her nails scratched the seatbelt, catching in the tiny grooves.

“You haven’t psychoanalyzed that yet?” She fluttered her lashes.

“I only found out a few minutes before you arrived, and I was too busy yelling at him because there was no way in hell I was letting him go through with it.” Pressure built in her chest. “And now all I can think about is the spell Kol helped Bonnie make, and how I’m a central part of it.”

“I guess that means you also haven’t considered why ‘there was no way in hell’ you weren’t letting him do it either?” She tapped the wheel.

“Have you thought about why you wouldn’t let Klaus do it?” She countered.

“I know exactly why and if he were actually going through with plan A then I might even tell him, but we’re not going through with that so I don’t feel the pressing need to reveal the inner workings of my mind.”

Elena twisted to look over her shoulder and through the window.

“He knows,” she sighed, “even if you can’t say it. Deep down, he knows.”

She found Caroline’s soft eyes on her, all teasing gone from her face. “He knows, too.”

Before she got a chance to dispute that, the entertainment system dimmed for an incoming call. Caroline used the controls on the wheel to answer.

“Hey, Bonnie.”

_“Hey, are you on your way?”_

“Yeah, I’ve got Elena with me,” she flipped her turn signal, skirting the town square.

“Hey, Bonnie,” she raised her voice to reach the speaker.

_“Hey. I have a confession to make.”_

“You’re having a steamy affair with a Mikaelson,” Elena breathed.

_“Wow, you really need to get laid.”_

“Elijah would probably oblige,” Caroline smirked.

“Whats the confession Bon?” She glared at her friend.

_“It’s about the spell. Right now your blood is tainted by the cure which makes it less… reliable.”_

“I think I know where this is going,” she sighed, turning her attention to Caroline. “You want it?”

“Not even a little bit,” her nose wrinkled.

“Didn’t think so. Pull in here,” she nodded to a charcoal awning. “I’ll take care of it Bonnie.”

Caroline ended the call and put the car in park. She eyed the darkened window, momentarily illuminated by Elijah’s headlights.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Potentially put myself into early labour.” She pushed open her door and stood, feeling her back pop.

“At thirty-seven weeks you’re gonna induce,” Caroline shook her head. “Technically you’re at term.”

She dug through her purse for her keys and sorted out the ring until she had the right one. “Do I need to tell you who to call?”

“I think I got it,” she nodded, already flicking through her contacts.

Elena left her to her devices and moved to the building. A fine layer of dust clung to the office, mocking her neglect of hard to reach corners on the desk. She made a note to ask the cleaner to come in twice a week instead of one.

That was if she didn’t ultimately decide to shut down and sell the practice.

Dr. Elena Gilbert once held a nice ring to it, but long ago it began to feel like someone else’s vision of her life. She wasn’t sure she wanted to make a career out of another person’s dream. Maybe she would write or teach, or do any number of things that wouldn’t turn her into her dad.

She loved him, and she missed him everyday, but there was no denying that Grayson Gilbert missed a lot of his children’s lives.

She didn’t want her daughter growing up to wonder when Mommy would be home from work, especially without a daddy to fill in the gaps.

But she shook off those thoughts. The clock ticked; she would have time to think later. Fetching a couple of syringes, she walked back onto the street before Klaus could race in and demand to know what the hold-up was.

* * *

Rebekah met them at the front door, bouncing from one stiletto to the other. Kol stood at her side, dark brows drawn over darker eyes.

Her stomach twisted. The last time she had seen that type of intensity on his face he had been driving a railing through her body. Her baby kicked the throbbing spot, somehow managing to touch every place the wood scraped. 

The set of his mouth appeared more urgent than murderous, so she took a deep breath to relax as she opened the door.

Elijah’s hand appeared before she could command her legs to move, and she took it, enjoying the brief contact. It lasted only as long as it took to stand and refocus her balance.

Then she had the privilege of watching Kol’s eyes grow wide and his mouth pop open. She let herself enjoy the moment for a second and then focused.

“Does Bonnie have the spell ready?” She hooked her purse over her shoulder.

“She and Freya are putting the finishing touches on it,” Rebekah nodded, “they just need your blood.”

“Where are they?” Caroline moved towards the school.

“In your office,” Kol moved with her, eyes darting back to Elena.

She hoped he felt little to no residual, well deserved, rage because she suspected Elijah would place himself between her and potential danger to her child, and she had no desire to kick off another feud between brothers.

She glanced at the spell, arranged in an ash circle before the sister she had never met. The complexity laid beyond her level of magical comprehension, and she lacked the time to ask. At least she assumed she lacked the time based on the patient.

Hope reclined in a red leather armchair, eyes closed and extraordinarily pale.

She took the desk chair and rolled up her sleeve.

“Does anyone else know how to draw blood?” She brought out the neatly packed syringes and a tourniquet, finishing off her supplies with an alcohol swab.

“After a thousand years we are rather proficient,” Klaus murmured, laying the back of his hand on Hope’s brow; she shifted, but didn’t open her eyes.

“I meant with a syringe,” she rolled her eyes. “I was a vampire for a few years and once the cure is gone those years will catch up. I don’t know how fast it will happen, but there is a decent chance that I’ll be inducing labour and I’d rather not give birth with a stinging vampire bite or a large cut on my arm.”

“I can do it,” Rebekah picked up the tourniquet. She tied off Elena’s arm, and swabbed the vein; she had the syringe in place before addressing the surprised looks. “I did spend a year as a nurse; I had to do this a few times.”

Elena watched the clear tube fill and stopped Rebekah before she could clip the second in place.

“I think that has to be taken first,” she frowned, directing her gaze to Bonnie.

“Better safe than sorry,” she nodded, raising an eyebrow at Freya.

“I’m of the same mind,” she poured black sand around the knife.

Elena turned her attention back to Rebekah, expecting her to inject the cure without a second thought. It was the only thing she had wanted her entire life from the moment she learned what her mother had truly done to them. Yet hesitation turned her pretty features as she glanced from the blood to the left, half-turning to look towards her brothers.

“Rebekah!” Klaus snapped, but she wasn’t looking at him.

Her eyes were focused on Kol between glances towards the syringe.

“Did I miss something?” Elena whispered, finding Elijah’s gaze; he shook his head and shrugged.

Kol swore under his breath, almost too quiet for her human ears, before plucking the syringe from his sister.

She turned back towards Elena.

She watched the soft play of emotions as Rebekah’s stiff shoulders quaked. The dejected sigh went straight to her heart. The sound cut off in a strangled gasp; her eyes darted to the syringe in the blonde’s neck as Rebekah’s lashes fluttered when she fell.

Cold rushed through Elena’s body, pouring over her head and racing up from her toes. It poured from the pinprick in her forearm and she swore she saw a wave leave her body, crashing onto Rebekah’s falling form.

Kol carried her to a short sofa and stretched his sister out.

Elena squeezed her eyes against nausea and exhaustion. She peeked out through her lashes when large hands covered her thighs; a little more energy and she might have flushed at finding Elijah on his knees in front of her.

“Elena?” His thumbs drew circles atop her leggings.

“I’m good,” she swallowed, “pass me the other syringe?” Her fingers shook.

Elijah took over, taking the needle and slipping it into her vein. He filled it with blood, tossed the second syringe to Freya and untied the tourniquet.

He attempted to place a cotton swab on the dot of blood.

Elena’s fingers twisted, digging into his hard biceps. She breathed fast through her nose and clenched her jaw tight against the contraction.

There was a specific way to breathe. How was she supposed to breathe?

Blood stained his shirt sleeves when she let go.

“Is that enough for the spell?” She blew out a fast stream of air.

The pads of her fingers replaced her sharp nails, but if she left bruises instead of cuts she would never know because Elijah voiced no complaints. She wasn’t sure she would have heard it anyway, too busy clenching her teeth against the pain.

Shouldn’t the contraction end at some point?

 _Precipitous labour,_ her brain supplied. _Should have seen that one coming._

“We’re about to find out,” Bonnie muttered.

Elena blinked, catching movement as the witches joined hands. She felt the static charge of magic in the air, pulling towards the knife as they chanted.

“Are you going to release Elijah, darling?” Kol drawled, carefully pulling blonde hair from Rebekah’s mouth.

“Nope,” she went for a head shake, but the motion made the pain worse. She couldn’t see what Kol did, nor hear what he muttered. Whatever it was proved enough to earn a sharp reprimand from Elijah.

She felt her hands tugged away and squeezed hard enough to break Elijah’s fingers.

“Is that enough blood?” Elijah reclaimed one hand and shifted, carefully maneuvering to rub the small of her back.

“Yes,” Bonnie looked up from the knife.

“You don’t need anymore?” Urgency laced his tone. “You’re certain?”

The conversation flew back and forth. She needed a hospital. Bonnie needed to put the final seals on the spell with Freya. Caroline needed to bring the girls. Alaric needed to hover and make sure the twins remained safe, not the he could have done anything if they weren’t.

And then she knew what it was to be weightless in Elijah’s arms as he carried her to the car and placed her in the passenger seat.

“I’ll ruin the fabric if my water breaks,” she flushed.

“You have more important things to think about right now,” he fastened her seatbelt.

* * *

The full moon’s light filtered through the blinds in the large window, making it a few inches into the sterile space; florescent lights drowned out the celestial event.

She couldn’t see where it was, but she suspected it had risen beyond its apex.

Her fingers curled around the bed rail.

Tired eyes flickered from the cupboard holding her clothes to the well worn visitor’s chair and her concerned visitor. He appeared at once comfortable and out of place.

“How do you feel?” Elijah tilted his head.

“I just had a giant needle jabbed in my spine,” she hummed, “I feel numb.”

She allowed herself a moment to close her eyes as the drug worked its magic. It had the added benefit of cutting off their eye contact. He grew up in a time long before the existence of the epidural when women felt every contraction. His mother did it seven times. Tatia and Katherine both did it without aid.

She lasted an hour, less when she took begging for the drugs the moment they were inside, into account.

“Do you think I’m weak?” She directed the question to the IV.

“Why would I ever think that?” His brows drew together.

“Giant needle…” her lip curled.

“I think,” he began, unbuttoning his jacket, “that you were in tremendous pain and that if you gave me a month I could provide you a list a mile long of women who would have jumped for an epidural; including your own ancestor.”

“Tatia?” Her eyes narrowed. She pushed her head into the pillow. “Seriously.”

“You could hear her screams from the falls, and I am not speaking figuratively. I had taken Rebekah and Henrik swimming, ten and six at the time, when Niklaus heard the first scream. I had to strain to catch the sound. We thought the village was under attack.” Nostalgia graced his smile, tinted with sadness. “Mother gave us an earful for leaving a thirteen year old Kol in charge of our younger siblings.”

“Irresponsible?” She guessed, glancing to the machine keeping track of her contractions.

“Poor swimmer,” he chuckled. “Rebekah had a habit of swimming under the falls.”

“I used to do that,” she sighed, tightening her arm over her stomach, “there’s a little cave back there.” She blinked back tears as a contraction tore through the pain meds.

“Little more than a ledge, I’d say.”

“You’ve been?” She drew in a sharp breath.

“I did grow up here,” his smirk turned serious, “you’re not weak, Elena.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, fiddling with the hospital bracelet. “You don’t have to stay, you know? I’m okay, and I’m sure you’re dying to check on Hope.”

“Hope is surrounded by family who will immediately let me know if something goes wrong,” he reasoned. “And I do have to stay. I won’t leave you here alone.”

“I should probably get used to being alone,” she chewed her bottom lip, chomping down hard enough to bruise. Her hand curled over her belly as she sighed. “Sort of alone.”

He reached out and placed his hand near hers on the rail, not quite touching her fingers; the heart monitor jumped.

“You should never get used to being alone in any capacity.”

“I don’t see another option right now.” She tried for a wry smile.

“Aren’t you the one who was screaming there’s always another option?” He teased.

“That was different,” she shook her head. Her eyes widened when he covered her fingers.

“You gave me an option Elena, and now I’m giving you one. Now that I have the time, since I won’t be sinking to the bottom of the deepest ocean, I would offer you my support.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “You have it Elena, whatever that may entail; be it help in the dead of night when she won’t sleep, or finding out what the hell happened to you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Or overhauling that nursery so you don’t have to be confused every time you put her to bed.” His thumb rubbed her wrist. “Whatever you need Elena. I give you my word.”

“Elijah,” she choked on his name and blinked back tears that she blamed on her hormones. Her sparkling eyes flicked, searching his gaze for honesty just for something to do; she knew he was honest, and that he would keep his word. “You knew it was me in Willoughby?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Why?” Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths.

His eyes fell to her hospital bracelet and back to her face.

“Because I’m a very selfish man,” he sighed, “and if I thought for a second that I could get away with it I’d do it again, but that’s not likely to happen.”

Her mind flashed back to the gazebo. She felt his strong hand on her jaw and the slant of his hungry mouth; soft, exploratory and oddly gentle with a tongue that whispered sinful promises.

The question travelled up her throat and sat heavily on the tip of her tongue: ‘what if that’s what I need?’.

The door burst open before she could ask and she was forced to break their heavy stare to watch Caroline and Bonnie skid across the linoleum.

“We’ve got it from here,” Bonnie reached for her hand as Elijah let go.

“How’s Hope?” Elena blinked, swallowing her question; the moment had passed.

“She’s fine,” Caroline directed the response between them.

Elena wondered if she had been listening.

“The vessel held?” Elijah’s fingers brushed her arm.

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, “Kol’s keeping it safe for the time being.”

“Klaus is seeing Hope through the transformation,” Caroline explained, “and Rebekah is getting a full physical from a compelled doctor in 402.”

“I suppose I’ll go check on her.” He locked eyes with Elena on his way out, and she understood that he wouldn’t go far.


	4. Chapter 4

He found the majority of his siblings in the sterile exam room.

Freya occupied a carbon copy of the blue chair he vacated for Bonnie Bennett.

Kol flipped through something on his phone and blocked the natural light from the window with his body.

And Rebekah, sweet Rebekah, sat on a narrow hospital bed. Paper crinkled beneath her body with every minuscule motion and twitch, and she appeared incapable of remaining still; her crossed legs jiggled and her hand readjusted the pack of ice held beneath her jaw.

“How do you feel, sister?” He hooked a finger under a thick wire leading from the heart monitor to a clip on her index finger.

She pulled the ice away and cast a dark glower over her shoulder.

“Like my idiot brother stabbed me with a needle.”

A large purple bruise marred her flawless skin. It might have been mistaken as the work of an overzealous lover if not for the pinprick.

“We were short on time, so excuse me for missing the vein.” Kol examined the boxes of gloves mounted on the wall.

“Other than that I’m fine,” she sighed, tugging at the heart monitor. “I don’t need a full physical.”

“You’re the one who said you had a giant pain in the neck.” Kol smirked.

“I think she was referring to you,” Freya’s eyes sparkled, cutting to him.

“How dare you insinuate such a thing,” Kol gasped in feigned horror, slapping his hand over his heart. “I am a saint.”

“You’re a demon,” Rebekah rolled her eyes.

“And what does that make you, Bex?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Obviously I am an angel.”

“A thousand years and still you bicker like children,” Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose. “How is Hope? Caroline said that she is fine and that Niklaus is with her.”

“We got it out with enough time for a quick recovery,” Freya said, crossing her arms. “The shift took her a few minutes once she leaned into it.”

“And now she’s waiting out the full moon in one of the werewolf cells,” he nodded, picturing the transition spaces under the school.

His siblings looked away. He listened to them clear their throats before shaking his head. “Explain.”

“Those cells seem incapable of holding her,” Rebekah hissed, placing the ice to her neck again.

“She took one look at the door and blew it off the hinges.” Freya pursed her lips. “Then she took off, made it outside and ran through the woods.”

“Alaric made sure all of the vampires were inside, and Nik is tracking her to make sure she doesn’t hurt anybody.” Kol spun his phone between his fingers. “Less likely since the Hollow is trapped in my pocket and the longer she’s a wolf the more self-control she’ll regain. She might even turn back early.”

“Speaking of early,” Rebekah dropped the ice pack on the bed. “How’s Elena? Is there a baby yet?”

“Not yet, but the doctor said it would be a matter of hours.” He frowned, wondering about the safety of such a speedy delivery.

“The labour’s progressing normally though?” Freya stood, stretching her stiff muscles. “Her body’s quickly catching up to the lost years.”

“Nobody has raised concerns yet,” he shook his head, “but I’m sure Caroline will _insist_ on a caesarean at the first sign of distress.”

* * *

She padded through underbrush on silent paws, lured by the tantalizing smell of fear. It wasn’t much, hardly a hint really, little more than trepidation. Still, she weaved between trees, quickly locating the narrow path.

Her muzzle swung left, sniffing. She caught wood smoke and alcohol with the sweat of dozens. The first smell grew stronger on her right.

She followed, stalking her solitary prey.

She found him quickly and made a game of the hunt, deliberately snapping a twig and showing glimpses of her haunch until the fear turned stark and sweet.

So sweet.

Her mouth flooded with saliva.

She stepped into a beam of moonlight on the path. Her ears pricked, catching the audible swallow and ‘tha-thump’ of a speeding heart.

He turned.

She blinked, owlishly.

Could a wolf blink owlishly?

She did.

Green eyes widened, sending a jolt of recognition through her.

 _Shit,_ her forelegs bent, muscles coiling for the pounce. _Don’t run._

If he ran she would chase.

She shifted a leg back.

He bolted.

Thousands of years of instinct took over and she gave chase, scolding herself but unable to stop until she launched herself into the air.

They went down in a tangle of human limbs.

He got a mouthful of red hair and rolled, scrambling to sit up on hands and knees. His eyes locked on her face.

“Hope?”

She shivered and crossed her arms, blinking to bring the now dark world into focus. His eyes darted all around, frantically searching the shadows beneath trees before coming back to her.

“Where did you come from? Did you see the wolf? There was a wolf, an actual wolf! I thought you had a curfew. Why are you naked in the woods?” His eyes widened. Colour flooded his cheeks. “Oh God, you’re naked.”

The words poured out of him so fast she could hardly understand them until he came to the end with a deep flush.

He struggled with the sleeves as he ripped off his jacket.

“Why are you naked?” He stared at a point over her head until he heard the zip close. “Did someone… did someone hurt you?”

She burst into a fit of laughter, unable to help herself. She had attacked him, she could have killed him, and he thought someone had hurt her.

“Hope?” He hesitated, plucking a twig from her hair. “We should go before the wolf comes back.”

She laughed harder and he looked at her like she had grown a second head. She managed to fold her legs under her, making up for the deficiency of his jacket; it would probably cover to mid thigh when she stood.

If she could stop laughing.

Slowly her ill-advised glee wore down as horror flooded her body; it manifested in rage.

She shoved his chest.

He tumbled to the ground.

“Why the hell did you run?” She shoved up the too long sleeves. He would have to be compelled anyway. “I could have killed you!”

“You…” his elbows ground into the dirt, crushing dead leaves. “You could have killed me? How could you… why… there was a freaking wolf!”

Her eyes flashed gold, burning with the power that commanded a change. She clenched her fists, digging claw-like nails into his sleeves.

“Your eyes,” he murmured.

She blinked, felt them shift to human and looked up. Her gaze, directed at the sky, ignored the realization and denial flashing through his green eyes.

She pursed her lips around a sob.

“You were the wolf?”

A human would have denied it, but dirt decorated her naked body and he had seen her eyes flash with magic.

And he would have to be compelled anyway.

She nodded.

Wind announced the arrival of a vampire and she swallowed, glancing over her shoulder.

“Hi dad,” she shoved at her hair. “This is Landon. Landon… this is my dad.”

Landon’s mouth gaped. He managed to get out a denial of anything happening at the same moment Hope announced she had pounced him.

* * *

“Is raiding the freezer a normal facet of labour and delivery?”

“Its the most important part,” Bonnie quipped. Her fingers protested the bite of cold, but she persisted in filling the cup. “Every labouring mom needs ice chips.”

Kol peered into the freezer. A deep frown turned the corners of his mouth.

“Why?”

“Cools down heated skin, minimizes risk of aspiration in case she’s gotta go under anesthesia, and my personal favourite,” she plucked a small cube from the cup and whipped it at him, “pelting annoying vampires with frozen water.”

He caught the chip between thumb and forefinger.

“Had I slower reflexes you might have succeeded in sending this down my collar,” a bead of cold water trickled over his thumb; it hung for a precarious second in the joint and then dropped the rest of the way to soak into the soft material of his sleeve.

“I figured they might be slower in public,” she tossed another.

He caught the cube with his free hand, utilizing the last of his luck; the third chip fell into his sleeve. By the time it reached the crook of his elbow it had melted, leaving a wet line that ran more or less straight through the green fabric.

He stared for a long moment before looking up. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes.

“You’re going to pay for that, darling.”

“Do your worst,” she cocked her head, smirking in challenge. For a brief moment she felt the childish urge to gesture with her fingers and say ‘bring it’, but her teenage years laid behind and somehow ‘bring it’ felt more aggressive.

Kol’s form blurred before her eyes, seeming to only move an inch or so to the right. She started to frown in confusion.

Then she felt it.

Burning cold raced from the nape of her neck to the small of her back; it caught where her blouse tucked into her jeans.

She dropped the cup.

Dozens of ice chips scattered.

She squealed, dancing from foot to foot. Her clumsy fingers tugged, yanking inch after inch of silk until the bottom of her wrinkled shirt hung around the top of her thighs.

Two tiny chunks of ice hit the floor.

She snatched a square of paper towel from the silver dispenser and swiped at her spine, glaring at the snickering Original.

“That’s cheating,” she knelt.

“Did you think I would play fair?” He smirked, dropping gracefully to help her clean. He scooped up a handful of ice and dumped it in the small kitchen sink.

“I shouldn’t have,” she rolled her eyes. Damp fabric brushed her back when she bent to catch the ice beneath the counter. A hot gaze settled on her. “Stop starring at my ass.”

“I was looking at your shirt,” he protested.

She got a handful of ice.

“It has a very nice drape,” he went on, “and that darker patch only accentuates it.”

She felt him bend further, reaching for more ice, and moved, slowly straightening. She twisted to the side, ready to stand and struck when he began to get up. All of the ice in her hand went down his collar, save three she clamped to the back of his neck.

He yelped, grappling for her hands.

She went down with a shriek, gasping when he settled on top of her. Strong hands held her wrists above her head.

“Did you think that wise?” He arched an eyebrow.

“No,” she grinned, “but it was fun.” Her calve hooked around his waist, trapping the ice beneath the fabric. She pulled him closer. “If I have to walk around in a wet shirt then so do you.”

“How exactly is that fair?” His warm breath fanned over her chin.

“All’s fair in love and war,” she breathed, lifting her chin.

“And which is this?” His eyes flickered to her parted lips.

“Well,” she twisted her mouth and gazed at the cupboard above her head in feigned thought. “Witch… vampire… I think that makes the answer pretty clear.”

“The answer is never clear, darling,” his nose touched her cheek on the path to her ear.

She braced herself for the brush of his lips, but he had barely grazed the shell of her ear when an amused voice broke through the gathering haze.

“This is a maternity ward,” the nurse scolded. She had a grandmotherly face and an exasperated smile. “That means the babies come out; they don’t go in.”

“Sorry, love,” Kol flashed a smirk over his shoulder. He stood and offered Bonnie a hand, watching the flush along her neck as she filled a second cup with ice and snatched a couple of white tubs.

“Hold this,” she gave him the cup, “and don’t even think about dumping it down my back.”

“Very well.”

She shut the freezer and pocketed a wrapped package. Her fingers tore into another and popped a stick between her teeth.

“What’s the purpose of the ice cream?” He eyed the tub when she opened it. Roughly a large scoop sat inside.

“It’s delicious,” she shrugged, “and the spell took a lot out of me, so I’m hungry.”

“Empty calories,” he followed her down a bright corridor.

“Shut up,” she mumbled around a mouthful. “It’s the best in town.” She savoured the taste and swallowed. “Can I ask you a question?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “I suppose.”

She took a deep breath and stared at her ice cream, studying the grooves caused by her stick. “Why did Rebekah hesitate?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your meaning.” He tipped the cup, listening to the rattle of ice.

“You see, I might have bought that,” she stabbed at her ice cream, scooping a lump of chocolate onto the stick, “ _if_ you hadn’t given the most _exasperated_ big brother sigh of all time and then stabbed her in the neck.”

“You should spend more time with Elijah,” he snorted, rattling the cup, “and then you’ll know what an exasperated brother sounds like.”

“Strangely enough I have no desire to spend time with Elijah,” she smiled, sickeningly sweet, and licked chocolate form her lip.

“I guess I’m the only vampire whose presence you revel in.” His smirk lit up his eyes and sent a wicked tingle down her spine.

“Do you remember that psychotic maniac who wanted to unleash hell on earth and kill us all at graduation?” She scraped down the sides of the container.

“Yes,” he nodded, tilting his head, “I believe he was a devilishly handsome lad who had a habit of making your heart thump out of your chest.”

“Strange,” she savoured the last bit, “I remember him being an egomaniac and a narcissist.”

“Darling, you wound me,” he held a hand to his heart. Bonnie continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“But at least the narcissistic egomaniac gave me straight answers.”

He traced a finger around the rim of her cup, watching the chips glisten under the glare of florescent lights. “The last time I gave you straight answers I was attempting to save you all, and you rewarded the kindness with death; twice over, I might add.”

“How lucky for you that I’m fresh out of white oak, and you need to be dead to be shoved behind the veil,” she drawled, tossing her garbage in a bin as they passed. With a quick step she took his arm and blocked his path.

“Kol…” his gaze focused first on her hand touching his sleeve and then her eyes, impossibly green, “… for what it’s worth, I am sorry about what happened, and I know Elena is too.”

“You’re sorry for killing me?” His brows lowered.

“I never said that, because you had that push coming.” She blinked once, leaving her lids half closed. “I did what I had to do so I could protect the people I love from a vengeful vampire, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Bonnie paused, giving him time to listen to the truth in her heart and digest the veiled threat in her words.

“I am, however, sorry that you died in the first place, and so is she.”

“And why am I not hearing this from her lips?” He inhaled a sharp breath.

“Why hasn’t she told the maniac who wanted to chop her brother’s arms off how she still has nightmares about killing him and a thousand faceless vampires? Why hasn’t she said how horrible she feels, and how haunted she’s been to someone who can literally rip her heart out?”

“I’ll concede your point,” his jaw ticked, “though your threat was not required.”

“I think it was,” she flexed her fingers, letting his sleeve slip from her hand.

“She just saved my niece’s life, and is delivering a child as we speak,” he waved with the cup down the hall where her voice drifted out, “killing her now would be poor manners. Killing her anywhere in Elijah’s vicinity would be suicidal.”

“And Jeremy?”

“Are you back with the brother then?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“He’s my friend and Elena’s brother,” she rolled her eyes.

“I suppose I’ve made it fourteen years without seeking revenge,” he heaved a sigh.

“Good,” she nodded, “now about my straight answer…”

“Elena’s ice is melting,” he looked down.

She took the cup and walked backwards. He found himself powerless to remain and stepped with her to stay in her orbit.

“Rebekah had the cure in her hand, but she hesitated. She looked at you.”

He stopped outside the room, catching sight of Elena through the window blinds. “Is there a question there?”

“There’s a story there,” she poked her head in the labour room. “Are you done being checked out?”

“Yes, Bon,” Elena sighed, dazedly, “you’re in no immediate danger of seeing my dilating vagina.”

“Lovely,” Kol’s nose wrinkled.

“Oh, hi,” her hand swiped at her nose. She missed and giggled, struggling to focus. “I know you.”

“I should think so,” he leaned in the open door and crossed his arms, “you did help murder me.” He ignored Bonnie’s half-hearted glare.

“I did?” Her eyes clouded over, struggling to focus.

“Yes, darling, you did.” He spoke slowly, a modicum of concern leaking through his voice.

Dark eyes darted to Caroline, brows raised in silent question.

“Oh,” Elena hummed, wiggling her upper lip. “I’m sorry…” Her eyes widened. “Are you a ghost?”

“He’s alive, sweetie,” Caroline patted her hand. “Don’t mind her Kol. The doctor got her to admit she was still in a tremendous amount of pain and administered entonox; it’s making her a little loopy.”

“That’s with the epidural?” Bonnie frowned.

“It’s a very fast, painful labour,” Caroline shrugged.

“I’m fine,” Elena yawned, waving a mask on the path to her face, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s because you’re high,” Caroline gently pried the oxygen mask from her fingers. “You’ll probably feel something soon since you’re nine centimetres.”

Elena frowned and tilted her head on the pillow. “I think…” she spoke slowly, “… that I need to push?”

“You don’t need to push,” Caroline shook her head.

“Yes, I do,” she nodded, gaining lucidity.

“No, you don’t,” she sighed, but peeked under the sheet anyway. All of the colour drained from her face. “Yes, you do. You’re crowning.”

“Told you so,” Elena’s tongue poked out.

“I… I’ll get the doctor,” Bonnie stammered, making a beeline around Kol.

He followed, raising an eyebrow when a woman in scrubs ran into the room and Bonnie hovered near an empty space on the wall.

“You’re not going back in?” He approached with his hands in his pockets. “Why?”

She chewed her bottom lip.

“How about this?” He hummed. “You answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

“The full story?” She tilted her head, looking him up and down.

“You have my word,” he swore.

She nodded to the empty waiting room and they sat side by side.

“I will be the greatest aunt that baby has, and I’m gonna love her to bits once she’s out and clean, but the thought of seeing her coming out makes me want to hurl,” she admitted, leg jiggling. “Birth freaks me out, and they both know it.”

“What are you going to do when you have one? Sit in the waiting room?” He chuckled.

“I’m not having kids,” she ran her tongue over her teeth. “Your turn.”

He nodded and studied the startling blue eyes of a model on an outdated magazine.

“My ex-girlfriend brought me back,” he rubbed his hands over his thighs. “A few months ago we reached an impasse. She swore up and down she would never be a vampire.”

“And you broke up,” Bonnie filled in the silence. “Rebekah was offering it to you?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you take it?” She inhaled slowly. “She’s waited a millennia; what’s a few more decades?”

“My sister shouldn’t have to wait any longer to have happiness.” He twisted to meet her eyes. “And I knew where the cure was. I could have had it any time.”

“You didn’t want it?”

“I miss being a witch,” he sighed, sitting back, “I feel that loss in my bones, but I like being a vampire. And the cure comes with risks I have no intention of taking; Rebekah will have all of us looking out for her.”

“The cure almost wasn’t in Elena,” she whispered, “before they died, Stefan and Damon got caught in deals with this guy named Cade. I was going to take the cure from her while she slept and give it to Enzo; he offered to change before I could even think of transitioning.”

“Enzo was a boyfriend?” He laid a comforting hand on her arm.

“He was the love of my life,” she exhaled. The pain still echoed in her chest, but after a near decade it had lessened to the point where she’d had a few more boyfriends. “Stefan killed him before we reached Elena, and I desiccated him. He stayed down a few days before Damon woke him up; they were both dead a little while after that.”

“I’m sorry,” he rubbed a thumb over her sleeve.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, eyes straying to the hall where nurses moved between rooms, a doctor checked his pager, and Caroline slipped out of the delivery room with her phone halfway to her ear.

* * *

His jaw ticked in annoyance. The white knuckled grip he kept on the phone threatened to break the infernal contraption in three neat pieces.

The boy, Landon, shifted under his glare. He blinked pointedly at the ground, refusing to even look up despite Hope being at his back behind an impressive willow.

He reached the answering machine, hung up and called again.

“Mr. Marshall…”

“Mikaelson,” he cut off what was certain to be a rambling speech of how absolutely nothing had happened between him and a very naked Hope. “Marshall was her mother’s name. And whatever you were going to say I likely don’t want to hear.”

“In that case can I go home?” He shoved his hands into his sweater pockets.

“No,” he cut a sideways look, silently daring him to run so he could chase. He blamed the full moon; every month his predatory instincts spiked.

“I swear I’m not going to say anything about what happened to her eyes, or wolves or vampires,” he stammered, glancing up and then quickly looking back down, “or whatever the hell you are.”

“Hybrid,” he rolled his eyes, hung up and called again. His daughter’s kindness might one day prove dangerous and he would have loved to blame her mother, but he doubted Hayley would have explained the nuances of compulsion to the boy no matter how confused and scared he appeared; her actions had clearly been learned elsewhere.

At school.

He had a decent idea exactly where she got it.

“And I know you won’t say anything, because you won’t remember. Finally,” he sighed as the call connected.

 _“You vibrated my purse off a table,”_ Caroline’s voice filled his ear.

“I’ve called three times, love.”

 _“Forgive me for being a little distracted by my best friend crowning,”_ he could feel the way she rolled her eyes. _“She is pushing a tiny human into the world, alone, as we speak.”_

“Then I shall keep this short,” he promised. “Hope turned back and a boy saw. I’m taking him to the school to be compelled.”

_“Why? Are you losing your touch grandpa?”_

“I just found my daughter naked in the woods with a teenage boy,” he snatched Landon’s sleeve when he shifted, “don’t joke.”

 _“How about I promise not to joke about that for another ten years?”_ In the background he heard ‘push’. _“Something to look forward to since you won’t be sinking to the bottom of the ocean.”_

He opened his mouth, almost telling her of his true plan involving the last piece of white oak in the world before deciding it was a confession for another day; a day when the chaos had settled and the wound scabbed over.

“The boy works at the Grille, and has likely consumed vervain there,” he sighed. A small smile tipped up his mouth; he knew she would hear the teasing lilt. “Should I bleed him dry instead? Hang him by his toes from one of these branches?”

“What?” Landon paled. Fear spiked in his blood.

Klaus felt the shiver beneath the thin sweatshirt.

“Relax Landon,” Hope came around the tree, “he’s joking.” Landon’s jacket hung over her arm; goosebumps covered the exposed skin her pyjama top bared to the night.

 _“Okay, you’re taking him to the school. What do you need in this moment?”_ Another ‘push’.

“A car.” If it was just Hope he would have physically carried her to the school. “I’m not leaving my daughter, and I don’t trust the boy not to run.”

_“You don’t trust anyone.”_

“I trust you.”

_“How’s your trust in your siblings at the moment? Because I’m sending Kol.”_

“Why Kol?” He frowned, listening to yet another sharp order to push.

_“He’s twenty feet away and has likely heard this entire conversation. Where are you?”_

“About a half mile north of the water fall.”

 _“Did you get that?”_ She spoke away from the receiver. A short pause followed her voice, filled with a faint sob and a distant voice before she returned. _“He’s on his way, and I’ve got to go.”_

“Give Elena my best.”

_“So you can weasel your way out of saying thank you?”_

“I would never dream of it, and I will personally thank her after she finishes pushing a tiny human into the world,” he smirked, but the intensity in his eyes softened, “even if I believe you are the one who deserves my thanks.”

_“For taking over and being a neurotic control freak?”_

“For refusing to let me give up.”


	5. Chapter 5

Elena dozed in her hospital bed, bathed in a shaft of sunlight, and appeared dead to the world. He would have chosen another word to describe her current state of consciousness, but Freya had chosen ‘dozed’.

He gave a soft tap on the door frame, startling Caroline from her light doze.

Her hand curled tighter around the edge of the bassinet as she jerked out of dreams into awareness, straightening up and acknowledging his presence with a short nod.

“How is she?” His eyes traced the sharp angles of Elena’s face. Without meaning to he stepped forward, hardly recognizing his own actions until his fingers skimmed the prominent curve of her cheek and the feathered lines around her eyes, smoothed in sleep.

Lines that hadn’t been present when he left her in the hands of her friends.

“Exhausted,” Caroline stretched. Her voice softened, lifting an octave. “Little baby no-name decided she was coming into the world feet first.”

Elijah glanced over, finding her cooing into the open-top of the bassinet.

“They say children born feet first will have healing abilities,” he offered a half smile.

“Don’t they also say that babies born at night will never sleep at night?”

“I’ve known that one to be true,” his smile widened. “Kol was born at night and would cry at all hours, only going to sleep when it was time for the rest of us to begin chores. I forgot what true rest felt like for the first three years of his life.”

His fingers absently stroked Elena’s hair from her face.

Caroline glanced at his hand, but he had eyes only for Elena.

“Aside from exhausted how is she?”

“I would imagine sore,” she tilted her head in an attempt to block out the beep of the heart monitor. “She was still in a lot of pain with the epidural and needed to have stitches.”

He nodded, eyes darting to a second visitor’s chair, empty save for a sweater. “And Miss Bennett?”

“She started feeling the spell so I sent her home to sleep; she must have forgotten her jacket,” her fingers reached for the dark grey wool. “She saw the baby and held her. We cooed, we awed, and two of the grown-ups crashed. One with the aid of heavy painkillers,” she gestured to the bed.

His eyes rose to the bassinet. His feet itched, wanting to circle the hospital bed so he could peer into the tiny face he couldn’t see.

Would Elena dominate the infant’s features? Would there be a hint of the potential predator who altered her memory?

Would there be some information for him to utilize in a quest for answers?

Would there be a starting point, or would he be captivated by her tiny features as he was by her mother?

A different captivation to be sure, but captivation nonetheless.

“Hope wasn’t born in the hospital,” he twisted a lock of brown hair around his finger, “it is common practice to keep newborns in the same room as their mother?”

“No,” Caroline shook her head. “After the labour and delivery she was a little dazed, but insisted the baby stay. She got really worked up about it. I was scared she would pop her stitches so I agreed to stay after compelling the staff.”

“Worked up?” His frown etched into the lines around his mouth. “Why?”

“She seemed to think that if the baby was away from her then she would disappear.” She busied her hands folding the wool neatly. “Bonnie and I tried to tell her it wasn’t gonna happen, but she had that ‘I’m gonna sacrifice myself to a sadistic hybrid’ stubborn look, so this was just easier; I fully believe she would have tried to walk to the nursery.”

Elena shifted in her sleep, leaning into his touch as she had all those years ago in the gazebo. With emotions the movement accompanied a soft hum.

“If you need to get back to work I don’t mind staying,” he touched her jaw. Elena turned, fitting her cheek into the palm of his hand.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Caroline smirked. “I do have a few things to do at work.”

She schooled her features into indifference when he looked up sharply, but couldn’t keep her eyebrow from raising slightly.

He withdrew his hand.

Elena’s brow wrinkled, twisting her nose.

“I…”

Caroline held up a hand, waving away the halfhearted explanation.

It took Elena four hundred thirty-two days after waking up to mention the letter, one hundred ten to bring up his sign off, and a further three days to talk about what occurred in Willoughby before Idiot One and Idiot Two dragged her home.

On top of that, she had seen every look as they rose from tolerance to a grudging respect, admiration and finally adoration. She knew that for once the captivation didn’t begin and end with her friend’s face.

Elijah may not have been as vocal about his affection. There had never been a sweeping declaration of ‘your last love’, or promises to see the world, but ‘Always and Forever’ had a quieter ring to it.

The vow would echo through the ages.

It already had.

“I’m not blind,” she said simply. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll come back later with afternoon with a car seat.”

“Will they release them so soon?” He pushed his hands into his pockets.

“Today or tomorrow, and if not today then I’ll leave the car seat for whoever ends up taking them home.”

He nodded as she took one last look in the bassinet and left. He managed to wait a few minutes, a true testament to his thousand years of patience, before he moved a human speed around the bed.

Between a pink hat and striped hospital blanket peeked a tiny face. She had the makings of her mother’s nose and jaw. He thought he might get away without being taken in, but then her large eyes opened: unfocused and deepest blue.

With a grunt she worked a tiny fist free and waved it at him.

He glanced towards a soundly sleeping Elena and then back to the baby.

Her mouth opened, ready to bawl.

He scooped her up before she could cry and swayed, cradling her in the crook of his arm as her stomach gurgled.

“You’re hungry,” he cooed; something he would deny if either of his brothers asked. “Your mommy is sleeping, though. Do you think you can be patient? Hmm?”

He reached for the call button, pressing it while the infant studied his face.

“Can you hold on for the nurse?”

She puckered her lips, searching for food he didn’t have.

“Is it feeding time already?” A man’s head poked in the room, kind eyes crinkling in a smile.

“Am I going to have to wake her?” He nodded to Elena.

“We’ve got formula on hand, and she had a hard delivery. I’ll get it.”

Elijah nodded, rationalizing that he had to be one of the compelled staff to not mention the baby and strange man in the room; he returned before she could fuss.

Elijah settled into the visitor’s chair.

Her nose crinkled familiarly and she suckled. A little formula dribbled from her mouth into the roll of her neck. He gently wiped it away when she was done.

“That’s better, isn’t it sweetheart?” He placed her on his shoulder, rubbing her back until she released a small burp.

“‘Lijah?” Elena’s sleepy voice rose from the bed.

Bleary eyes struggled to focus on him.

“Elena,” he shifted the baby back to his arms. She blinked up at him with more focus than her mother, but Elena managed a lazy version of her half smile. “I’m right here. I’m watching her. You can rest.”

“I wa’ ho’,” she frowned, bringing a deeper pucker between her brows. The age had taken her overnight; it was jarring but no less beautiful. She opened her mouth and tried again.

“I want to hold her.”

“I thought it was something like that.” He stood, arranging her neatly in the curve of Elena’s arm that remained wire free.

She lacked the physical strength and energy to lift the infant so he slayed her on the mattress with Elena’s arm acting as a bumper.

Her fingers carefully traced the arm outside the blanket.

“Hi,” she breathed.

The tiny fist jerked, bumping her arm.

“I’ve been interpreting that as hello,” he chuckled. “I’m certain it will seem less violent when she can uncurl her fingers.”

Elena managed a half smile, different then ‘his smile’, and kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

“How are you feeling?” He helped her tuck the child’s arm back under the blanket.

“Tired,” she mumbled, lashes fluttering against her cheek.

“Then sleep, Elena,” he settled into a chair, “I’ll be right here.”

“For how long?” She mumbled.

“As long as you need,” he watched mother and child drift off, “until you say go.”

He stayed there until they were both asleep and on the path to recovering from the trauma of birth. Then he stood and moved the baby back to the bassinet.

By the time Elena woke up again he had shed his jacket, tie and rolled up his sleeves; her baby wiggled in his arms.

She remained awake long enough to question Caroline and Bonnie’s absence.

The third time she tried to sit up, so he moved and raised the bed into a sitting position.

“Still tired?” His watch read 12:43.

“A little,” she shifted with a wince and a hiss.

“Are you okay?” He filled a cup with water.

She sipped while blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“I had stitches,” she pursed her lips and bit her cheek. The line between her brows deepened. “Was Kol here?”

“Not to my knowledge,” he eyed her pale features, drawn tight in pain. “Would you like some help in healing? I hate to see you hurt.”

“That’s sweet,” she leaned against the pillows, situating her hips in the most comfortable position she could manage, “but vampire blood lost all effect on me when I took the cure. You might want to warn Rebekah about that in case she gets any ideas about going skiing or something and breaks a leg.”

“Speaking from experience?” He untangled the wires, gently brushing her hand.

“I’ve never broken a leg skiing, but I did break my arm after a fall down the stairs,” her eyes glazed over, lost in memory, “a couple of ribs too.”

“Carrying too many things?” Elijah guessed.

“Ex-boyfriend,” her fingers twitched, reaching for the ghost of a wound. She saw him stiffen from the corner of her eye; redhot fury flashed across his features. She enunciated each word carefully so he would be sure to hear and calm down.

“It was the _first_ and _last_ time he hit me; I think Caroline made a midnight snack of him, but six years later I still don’t have verbal confirmation. He disappeared after that and the only thing Caroline would say was that she took care of it and that nobody would find him since the spot had been chosen by Klaus years earlier.”

“Good,” some of the tension left his shoulders, but his jaw remained locked. “Niklaus is proficient in covering his missteps.”

“Why do I get the feeling if he were still alive his fate would be a lot more… grisly?” She tilted her head, not thinking before reaching for his hand.

He looked down, watching her cool fingers curl around his palm. His gaze strayed to her arm, sharp eyes picking up the faint lines of an old surgery. He hadn’t given much through to the punishments of old in a long time, but he would not have been opposed to enacting a little Viking Justine on her behalf. In his opinion any man who would beat a woman, or a child, deserved a violent death.

Had he not lacked the courage he would have stricken Mikael down the first time he raised a hand to Niklaus. He should have done so, but he had been a boy of nine.

Still.

There would be hell to pay when he found the bastard(s) responsible for her memory loss and subsequent pregnancy. He knew of several fitting punishments for rapists should that prove the case.

“Grisly…” he began, tracing the veins in her hand, “… feels too mild a term.” His muscles twitched with the desire to raise her hand to his lips and smooth the furrow between her brows with a soft kiss.

He settled for rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb. “I’m sorry that happened to you, and I apologize for making you relive it now.”

“Forgiveness is kind of our thing, so I suppose I can let it go,” her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled.

“Isn’t betrayal out thing too?” He chuckled.

“And trust,” she added, shrugging, “we go round and round. The carousel never stops.”

“I think I saw an emergency break,” he teased.

“Oh, good,” she sank into her pillows. “I’m starting to get a little dizzy.”

“That will be the after effects of your painkillers.”

“What did they give me?” She struggled to sit and immediately regretted it.

Elijah passed her the chart hung over the foot of the bed, flipping it open. She took it after pulling off the heart monitor clip.

A long beep filled the silence as she read. He half expected a nurse to race in their direction, but before one could the cord pulled itself from the wall.

“It was annoying,” she whispered into the silence.

“What else can you do?” He eyed the blank monitor.

“Mostly fire and moving things with magic,” she licked her dry lips. “I don’t practice a lot so I’m not very good, but I wouldn’t have minded the telekinesis as a kid.”

“Kol used it for all kinds of mischief as a child.”

“No trouble,” she smiled, “I just wanted the good cookies off the top shelf.”

“I’m sure you still found a way to get them.”

“I climbed,” she nodded, shoulders rising in a silent laugh. “I fell. I cried?” She tilted her head. “My mom thought my wrist was broken, but dad wrapped it up, gave me some just and one of the cookies; I was fine a few minutes later.”

“So your mother over-reacted.”

“It’s possible,” she licked her bottom lip, “but dad was also experimenting with vampire blood for the town council, so…”

“The paediatric ward would probably frown on that.” His smile softened when a gentle gurgle reached his ears. “Are you certain blood has no effect on you? The cure is gone, and has left you, presumably, human.”

She laid the chart on her legs, watching as he refilled her glass from the sink.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Would you like to try?” He shut off the tap. “The worst that can happen is nothing.”

“Isn’t the worst that can happen having it work, and then something unexpected comes along and I wake in transition?” She countered.

“Elena, I give you my word that I will not let that happen unless it’s your choice.”

That was what it truly came down to with Elena after all. The only thing she truly wanted for herself was the freedom to make her own decisions.

He waited patiently for her choice.

The gurgle acquired accompaniment from a waking heart and a tiny hitch in breathing. The same kind Elena made when she was surprised. He suspected waking outside the warmth and safety of the womb must have come as quite the shock.

Elena nodded once.

He bit into his wrist and a let a small stream of blood dribble into the cup. A turn of the plastic diluted most of it.

She drank with a grimace as he cleaned his wrist, tipping her head back and downing the water like a shot.

He lifted her wriggling baby into his arms and cradled her close to his chest.

Elena’s face twisted up. After a decade she had thought she forgot, but the feeling of skin knitting together appeared to be stuck in her body.

She yanked the IV from her hand as it began, starting as always with a tickle. Then the tickle exploded into a full-blown itch between her legs and up into her abdomen.

The moment it began to feel unbearable it stopped, leaving her with a niggling discomfort caused by the remnants of her stitches.

Showering was bound to be fun.

“It worked,” he nodded to her hand. “Was it enough?”

Elena took stock of her body while he transferred the baby into her arms. The deep ache and tearing were gone; she could tell that by feel. The only physical reminders of her pregnancy seemed to be the extra layer of softness around her belly, the heaviness in her breasts and the newborn in her arms.

“I think so,” she murmured. Her eyes dropped, catching the deepest blue. She had lacked awareness before and was only half-convinced she had held her baby, but now, free of painkillers and somewhat rested she knew what was happening.

Her heart swelled, accepting what her mind had pushed back for months.

 _Mine,_ she thought, _precious and mine._ A tear fell on the blanket.

“Elena?” He didn’t try to stop himself from gently tucking her hair behind her ear as he perched on the bed by her thighs.

“Hi,” she breathed, allowing her finger to trace a pudgy cheek. “Hi, baby girl. I’m your mommy,” her eyes shimmered as she choked on a sob. “I’ll try not to screw up, I promise.”

“You won’t.”

Blue eyes swivelled. He leaned a little closer so she could focus on his face.

“Elijah,” she glanced up, “thank you for helping me last night, and for being here.”

“You’re welcome,” he lifted his gaze from the baby. “I meant to return, but your darling daughter made her appearance first. I still don’t know her name.”

“Neither do I,” she huffed a small laugh. “I thought I’d have a little more time, plus, as you know, I was putting everything baby related off.”

“I do know,” he nodded, lifting a finger to smooth out the blanket.

“What about now? Do you have any ideas? She’ll need a name before she goes home.”

“No pressure,” Elena sighed. Her daughter wiggled and grunted, looking towards Elijah with a pucker in her lips.

“I think she’s hungry.”

“How can you tell?” Her brows lowered.

“I’ve been diligent in keeping her satisfied so you might rest,” he pointed to his ear.

“Oh,” a faint flush stained her cheeks, “right. Um…” she turned her head, eyeing the snap of the hospital gown. “Could you hold her a second?”

“Of course,” he nodded, taking her.

He spoke softly in a language Elena didn’t know, cooing to distract while she pulled on the buttons.

Before that moment she would have called anyone who labelled Elijah Mikaelson as soft a complete and utter moron with an obvious death wish, but his entire continence changed. She had seen kind eyes and gentle smiles, felt tender touches and heard sweet words, from him directed at her, but this was different. The way he cradled and spoke to the baby suggested he would slaughter anyone who wished her harm; much as Elena had felt when she looked into her baby’s eyes.

“Okay,” she blushed, baring one breast, “I’m ready.” She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased when he placed the baby back in her arms without looking at her chest.

Her tiny mouth rooted, searching. Elena guided her nipped into the hunting mouth. It took her a few tries to latch, but then she felt the tingling trickle. She hardly glanced up as Elijah placed a blanket over her front to preserve her modesty, draping it so she could still see the baby’s face.

“This feels weird,” she admitted on a breath of air. She also felt closer with the skin on skin contact. Her heart felt ready to burst.

Was it safe to feel the amount of love she did?

She needed a distraction before she broke down in tears.

“Can I ask you something?” She lifted her head in time to see him nod. “What did you mean last night when you said you forgot? How was that possible?”

“I was compelled by the joint efforts of Marcel and a witch,” he spoke after a beat. “We had just divided the Hollow, and I feared my devotion to Niklaus would cause everything to unravel. He compelled away ‘always and forever’, and my memory went with it since without it I’m nothing. I did eventually learn who and what I was, but without my memory the knowledge of my family meant nothing, so I fought against remembering.”

She gaped, feeling different tears threaten. “I’m…”

“Not the distraction you were hoping for,” he gave a wry smile.

“I’m so sorry that happened.” She swallowed, spotting the guilt in his eyes. He had done something, or neglected to do something, and someone must have been hurt.

“I’m sorry for whatever you’re blaming yourself for,” she adjusted the baby over her shoulder and reached for his hand before burping her, “but I feel pretty confident in saying it wasn’t your fault.”

“Perhaps not, but I’ll likely blame myself for a while yet.” He raised his hand to the baby’s back. “Names?”

“Is that the answer to ‘what’s the first thing I can screw up as a mother’?” She cupped the baby’s head, smiling when she released a tiny burp under Elijah’s ministrations. She cradled her in both arms, lowering her head to press a tender kiss on the downy cheek. “I should probably come up with something before Caroline comes back with the big book of children’s names.”

“You don’t think that would help?”

“I think Care would try to help, but the sheer volume of names will be overwhelming,” she peered down into the littlest face he had seen since Hope. “You wanna tell mommy your name, baby girl? Huh?”

She looked up, tilting her head in thought. The last cry she had heard came after the first gulp of air, and she knew that was down to Elijah’s care.

“I don’t think she’s going to be any help,” the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“They don’t talk much during the first year,” he nodded, “after that they never stop. Did you consider any names at all?”

“A few,” she admitted, lowering her gaze to bright eyes. “I liked Brooke and Harper and Ava, but I don’t think they fit. I liked Lily too.”

“For Lillian or Lilith?” He tilted his head.

“I wasn’t about to name my baby after a demon,” she rolled her eyes.

“That all depends on interpretation,” he smiled, motioning with one hand. “Lilith was Adam’s first wife, made from the same clay, but she refused to be subservient so she left the garden of Eden. So she has been interpreted as a dangerous demon, but she also represents female empowerment, autonomy and individuality.”

“All good things,” she agreed with a nod, “but the first thought is demon, and the next thing you know my sweet little girl is growing into a hellion and turning my hair grey.”

“That would be quite the change from the serene child in your arms,” he smiled, meeting the blue eyes.

“She is very serene,” one tiny arm got free. “If I call you Serena are you going to immediately rebel and act like a Lilith?”

She blinked up, slow and tranquil, watching her mother. Her fist waved as Elena said the name again.

“I think she likes it,” her hand closed around the fist.

“She likes you,” he nodded, “and your voice. And I think the name suits…” He looked over his shoulder, finding the source of the knock that interrupted him.

Bonnie leaned in the open door.

He stood up.

“Hey,” she greeted, “auntie Bonnie’s here; should she come back later?”

“Of course not,” Elena smiled, “get in here.”

“I didn’t know you had company,” Bonnie stood at the side of the bed. “I was hoping to cuddle a cute little baby.”

“That can be arranged,” she moved, carefully transferring the girl.

“Hello, sweetie,” Bonnie cooed, “do you have a name yet?”

“Serena,” Elena snapped her gown closed.

“That’s beautiful.” Her eyes lifted to Elijah questioningly.

“Are you recovered from the spell?” He pushed his hands into his pockets.

“I’m better,” she nodded. “I was hoping to talk to Elena… alone.”

“Then I shall take my leave for the time being,” he reached for his jacket. “I’ll see you soon Elena.”

He moved towards the door, pausing at the sound of her voice.

“Elijah…” he caught a slight flush on her cheeks. She chewed her bottom lip for a second and exhaled. “You could probably get away with it again.”

His heart fluttered as he turned giving her a hint of a smile and showing Bonnie the start of his own flush.

He left them in the room and moved towards the elevator with no intention to eavesdrop but their voices carried before he made the conscious decision to ignore them.

_“Get away with what?”_

_“Murder,”_ came Elena’s dry reply. He chuckled. _“What did you want to talk about?”_

_“Last night’s spell.”_

Elijah froze with his finger over the button.

_“It’s not a permanent solution, but with your help we can make it one.”_

The doors glided open.


	6. Chapter 6

He stopped short on entry to the school, eyes going wide as he took in the wild red hair accessorized with broken twigs and ground leaves. Mud soaked the bottom of her slippers and hemline.

The boy beside her looked to have been rolling in the mud.

Kol heckled on the bench across from them, shoulders shaking and eyes shining with mirth.

"Do I want to know?" He buttoned his jacket and shoved a hand in his pocket.

"Hope had a midnight rendezvous with a boy," Kol smirked.

"I did not," she cried, hiding her mortification behind her hands, with a groan about stupid interfering uncles.

Kol laughed.

"Nik did find you in the woods with him."

Hope grumbled and crossed her arms, sinking into her seat.

The boy held up his hand.

"Just for the record, I wasn't naked, and she was wearing my jacket."

Elijah took a second to place the familiar features in the chaos of the last twenty-four hours: dark hair in tight curls, green eyes and a nervous smile.

"Landon?" He lifted his chin. "What are you doing here?"

"Nik's losing his touch in his old age," Kol grinned.

"Careful, brother," his eyes flickered to him, "I am older than Niklaus."

Landon cleared his throat and rubbed his palms over his thighs.

"Hope's dad tried to compel… compel?" He turned to Hope who nodded once. "Tried to compel me and couldn't, and then the headmistress - who is apparently a teenager - cut my hand and tasted my blood, and now they're in there arguing."

"We were gonna eavesdrop, but someone fixed the privacy spells," she sighed.

"And you have yet to clean up because?" Elijah lifted an eyebrow.

Hope's eyes darted from him to his younger brother as her fingers twisted the hem of her t-shirt.

"Uncle Kol makes Landon uncomfortable," she shrugged.

"All I said was go and relax while I question your suitor's intentions." Kol held up his hands and frowned; the picture of innocence.

"You said it in front of dad, so if I leave there's a good chance Landon disappears," she rolled her eyes.

"You're giving your father too much credit, darling," Kol smirked, ignoring Landon's nervous swallow. "Elijah's the one who makes people vanish."

Elijah rolled his eyes and took pity on the boy.

"You will not be disappearing Landon," he unbuttoned his jacket, "now I think I shall find out what has upset Niklaus this time."

He strode into Caroline's office and shut the door, somehow unsurprised to find them locked in a heated staring contest. Kol's voice sounded in the back of his mind, egging the pair to 'just shag already'.

Caroline broke eye contact first.

"I thought you were with Elena?" She checked her watch.

"Bonnie is visiting and asked for a private word. I thought I would check in here." He moved to stand near the desk. "How has my brother earned your ire today?"

"He's trying to take an active hand in enrolment…"

Klaus cut her off, eyes flashing as his voice rose.

"You cannot let that boy in here!"

"It's my school. I can let in anyone I want to," she snapped, "and I'm not going to turn away a young supernatural because you've hit the overprotective dad phase."

 _He's been there since day one,_ Elijah pressed his lips together.

"Caroline…"

"They like each other, deal with it." She rolled her eyes.

"What exactly is Landon?" He turned to Caroline as she crossed her arms.

"No idea, but there is no vervain in or on him and he can't be compelled so he's something, and now he knows about werewolves and vampires and since he's sitting out there probably witches too. He's seen the school."

"And she wants to keep him," Klaus grumbled.

"I can't exactly let him go," she shot back. "And you can't kill every boy who likes her."

"I most certainly can."

"Niklaus," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You have no control over admissions, and as far as Hope is concerned Landon is a better choice than her last boyfriend."

"According to Kol he's bumbling and sweet," Caroline frowned with amusement in her eyes, "very strange coming from him."

"I can attest to that," he nodded.

"Did everybody know about this boy but me?" Klaus grumbled petulantly.

"You would have to check with our sisters."

"I'm going to let you two has this out while I talk to Landon and then go bring Elena home."

"I can pick up Elena and the baby." He held up his hand before Caroline could move around her desk. His eyes darted to his brother. "We have nothing to 'hash out'. That way you won't have to rush what I'm sure is going to be a long conversation."

"You'll need a car seat, which I still haven't gone to get," she sighed, closing her eyes.

"I'll pick one up," he assured her.

"We will," Klaus amended. "I do owe her a thank you."

"Wow," she leaned back, "I thought she's be on her deathbed before you actually got to that." She moved across the room and took a key from her purse. "For the Lake house."

"I assume you've packed a bag," he tucked the key into his pocket.

"It's in the closet by the front door," she nodded, "and it's got stuff for her and the baby." She pushed her hair back from her face. "I was gonna go with her this weekend to pick up the car seat."

"I believe picking up a car seat is the very least I can do," Klaus sighed. "Let's go, I'd like to get this over with."

"Don't kill Landon on the way out," Caroline called. She took a deep breath as Klaus said something to Hope before sending the teenagers into her office.

"Landon, Hope," she nodded to the chairs in front of her desk as she smoothed out her sweater, "take a seat. We're going to be here a little while."

* * *

Serena's tiny fingers curled around her pinky, so small and helpless. She knew nothing of the cold hard world and remained innocent of the murky details surrounding her conception, depending on her mother for everything.

"Elena?"

Bonnie's voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up and locked eyes with her.

"You don't have to do this. We can…" she paused, taking a moment to search her friend's expression; when she spoke again a forced conviction laced her tone. "We can find another way. We _have_ time."

She allowed her eyelashes to flutter until they practically lay on her cheek; Serena's eyes dropped.

Caroline's voice whispered in her ear with the occasional supplement from Klaus. The Hollow craved power, murdering indiscriminately to acquire it: witches, wolves, vampires and humans. Nobody was safe; it would kill Hope and find away to amass more strength.

The destruction of the entire world rested on her shoulders.

 _An hour ago I was worried about parenting,_ she kissed Serena's brow.

"I just had a baby," she spoke around a catch in her throat.

"We _can_ find another way." Bonnie's hand cupped Serena's head.

It would spiral into Hope first, and depending on how long the spell held either the school or Hope's family. She thought it inevitable that it would find it's way back to Mystic Falls now that it knew about the growing power beyond the iron gates. From there it would take New Orleans. Once the supernatural population lay in smoking ruins it would focus on humanity and whatever power it could drain from the beating heart of nature.

"Another way?" She smoothed her thumb over the tiny fist and thought of Klaus' plan and Elijah's scheme. She was the other way: plan B. Whether she liked it or not. The only other option included a 'dead' Mikaelson and one broken heart either way.

"Elena?" She squeezed her friend's hand. "What are you thinking?"

"What am I thinking?" She breathed, limbs shaking as she stood and carefully placed her baby in the bassinet. "What am I thinking?"

Elena's vision tunnelled until all she could see was the stripped edge of the hospital issue baby blanket. She clutched at her elbows and shook her head, breath hitching on a sob that made her voice quake around her words.

"I think you came in here and put one of the biggest fears I had my entire pregnancy at ease," her back hit the wall. She sagged and clutched her stomach, a numbness spread through her mind; laughter bubbled out, and she couldn't stop once she started.

Bonnie approached with uncertain steps, laying her hand's on Elena's trembling shoulders. The new mom gasped on a breath, somehow managing to wheeze out the rest.

"And… and now y-you're… you're saying that to s-save ev-everyone…" her laughter turned to giggles, "I have to… have to make it a reality."

She brought a shaking hand to her forehead as the giggles shifted to sobs; the kind that wrenched her entire body and left her feeling empty with equally strong desires to be alone and feel the comfort of another person.

"We can find another way," Bonnie insisted. She ran a hand up and down Elena's spine; the words sounded hollow and forced.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"

Elena flinched at the sudden voice, burrowing further into Bonnie's shoulder.

"Have a little tact Niklaus."

Bonnie twisted to watch the brothers while keeping one arm around Elena's shoulders.

Klaus placed an infant carrier on the floor and leaned against the open door, crossing his arms.

Elijah strode in, pausing only to place a familiar bag on the bed, and came towards them.

Elena's sobs slowed. She accepted the deep purple pocket square and dried her red rimmed eyes. A persistent cold clung to her as she deliberately ignored the hybrid's curious gaze to focus on the bag. The gloriously beautiful bag Caroline stocked with cashmere clothes and toiletries for her, along with everything her daughter would need.

She needed a shower, and space, and really just two minutes alone.

"Elena," Elijah placed a hand on her elbow, "do you need anything?"

Her arm trembled beneath his touch.

"I want to shower," she sniffled, eyes flickering to the bassinet.

"Then go," he nodded to the attached bathroom, "between Miss Bennett and myself she'll be perfectly safe."

"Why was I not included in there?" Klaus arched an eyebrow.

"Do you really think that with your history she would trust you with her child?" Bonnie scoffed, gesturing between him and Elena.

"She did just save mine," he stepped into the hospital room, "causing any harm to your child…" he stooped, catch Elena's eye as she rifled through the bag. Her movements stilled, hands curled around soft material. "Well now, that would be a poor way of showing my gratitude, wouldn't it, love?"

She hardly heard the words passing though her lips; something about an extensive vocabulary and knowing the words 'thank' and 'you'. Whatever she said drew a chuckle from him.

"Thank you," Klaus smirked as the door clicked shut. He waited a moment for the water to start before turning to Bonnie. "What was that about?"

She dug into the bag for a new sleeper to replace the hospital one Serena had chosen to spit up on.

"She just had a baby," she picked up the child in question and laid her on the hospital bed, "it's not uncommon to cry after having a baby."

Her fingers worked free the snaps, baring a belly and curled umbilical cord.

"Elena seemed fine when I left," Elijah unfolded the pink outfit.

Serena squirmed, opening her mouth to protest the cold.

"That's hormones for you," Bonnie fastened the new onesie, taking care around the belly.

He recognized the attempt to evade, but allowed it. Niklaus had a fearsome temper and as of yet remained unaware of the true situation; he trusted Elena would fill him in when she felt ready.

Serena began to cry in earnest.

"You might try picking her up," Klaus leaned back on his heels.

"I've never had to calm a baby before," she admitted. "I didn't spend much time with the twins until they were four." Bonnie cradled the baby in the crook of her arm; she cried harder. "You're not wet or hungry, so what's wrong?"

Elijah draped a receiving blanket over his shoulder.

"Allow me."

Bonnie and Klaus stood froze, watching as he held the baby to his shoulder. She turned her face into his neck as he spoke in dulcet tones.

"There you go, sweetheart," he spread a large hand over her back in the way he had discovered she liked. "You're alright now… shh…" he curled the edge of the blanket up, covering her beneath his hand. "I know you don't like the cold."

"How, precisely, do you know that?" Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"I spent the morning here, enabling you and Caroline Forbes to engage in your little argument." Elijah felt her breathing even out for sleep as the shower tapered off. "Perhaps you can see about getting them discharged. I'm sure Elena would love to go home."

"That's putting it mildly," Elena stepped out. Her damp hair, piled in a messy bun, spilled loose curls around her shadowed eyes.

"I can give you a ride home," Bonnie offered.

"I've actually already installed the base in my car," Elijah went on. "I can take you both back."

Elena thought it a testament to whatever they had that after years apart and her mental exhaustion she could understand from one look that he wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her.

"If you don't mind," _eavesdropper._

* * *

Autumnal leaves whipped by the windows, slowing as Elijah drifted into the driveway. The journey had been silent, comfortable despite the looming conversation.

The comfort wouldn't last if they let things fester, so when he put them in park she unbuckled and shifted to look at his profile.

"How much did you hear?" Her fingers twisted in her sweater, catching in the vial Bonnie had slipped into her pocket; it bounced against her knuckles.

"That the spell is not yet permanent, and that _you_ can make it so," he tapped the steering wheel, "but I did not hear how. I assume what Bonnie told you contributed to your tears."

"It's just a little…" she drew in a shaky breath, sighing when he took one of her hands and stilled her fidgeting, "overwhelming."

"Tell me?" He smoothed a line over her knuckles in a motion meant to soothe.

"She summoned Qetsiyah last night," she watched his hand for a moment. "After she sent Kol to get that knife she summoned her ancestor."

"And what brought on this family reunion?" He kept his voice low in deference to Serena's slumber.

"The seal requires a living doppelgänger line; last night she found out that I am the last one." Her voice hitched. He thought she might have cried if she weren't cried out.

"That news would have been a load off you mind, and now it upsets you." He raised his hand, watching the hospital bracelet catch on her wrist. "I assume she suggested vampirism."

"No," she inhaled slowly, "I could still die that way, and the doppelgänger line would end. Then the Hollow gets out and wreaks havoc." Her free hand slipped into her pocket, extracting a vial of green liquid that she held out.

"This is an alternative to vampirism?" He lifted it to the light."

"That's the spell that made Silas and Amara, and kicked off two doppelgänger bloodlines."

"So if you take this…"

"The doppelgänger line kicks off with me as the new progenitor," her fingers tightened around his hand.

"And you have no desire to re-greet immortality." He closed his hand around the spell.

"It's not that…" she shook her head, blinking rapidly. "I didn't mind being a vampire, Elijah. I had even come to terms with it."

"Then why take the cure?" The frown lines deepened around his mouth.

"Because I lied to Damon," she shut her eyes against a wave of exhaustion. She could feel him watching and sighed before clarifying. "When I turned it back on he didn't want to hear that the sire bond was still there, so I told him what he wanted to hear. He seemed to have it in his head that I wanted the cure no matter what I said, and when he finally got hold of it he told me that the choice was mine. I thought 'finally'; finally, I'd be free."

"Were you? Finally free?" He asked, turning in time to see a single tear leak from her eye.

She stayed silent for a long moment, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"I don't know," she admitted in a soft voice. "The coma happened, and then he died." She opened her eyes, turning to face him fully.

"Eternity doesn't scare me, and I suppose I would be around to protect the next one," she sighed, glancing into the backseat, "I just wish all of this information hadn't come today."

Her eyes locked on the car seat.

"You just had a baby," he nodded. "It's a lot."

"It is," she agreed. She looked from the back of Serena's car seat to his hand, coming to a decision she knew he would respect and do everything in his power to honour. "I want a year."

"A year?"

"One year to be human, and breastfeed my daughter and lost the baby weight," she gestured to her stomach. "One year and then I'll take it."

He was nodding before she finished.

"You'll understand if I remain close during that time, as my niece's life is on the line."

"Is that the only reason you want to stay close?" The corner of her mouth quirked up.

"Well," he smirked, glancing to the backseat, "Serena is very hard to resist."

"Oh, and here I thought it had something to do with me," she rolled her eyes.

He let go of her hand and cupped her jar. The callouses on his fingers skimmed the soft skin as he had more than a decade before.

"Where do you think she gets it from?" He tucked a curl behind her ear, smiling when she turned her cheek into his touch.

"I almost spelt her name with an 'I'," she huffed a laugh.

"That's would have been the Greek name for a siren," he chuckled. "Didn't a bunch of them nearly kill everyone in town years ago?"

"If they did it was before I woke up," she shrugged. "I should probably take her inside."

"Give her the tour?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I thought I'd start in the kitchen." Her stomach grumbled. "The hospital food was a little bland," her eyes drooped; she forced them back open.

"I'll tell you what," he traced her cheekbone with his thumb. "Why don't we go inside and you can take a short nap while she's still asleep? While the two of you rest I'll fix you a late lunch. How does that sound?"

"Amazing," she sighed, "like I might just keep you around."

"I hope that's not the only reason."

"There might be a few more."

She felt the softest brush of lips against her brow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This officially marks what was supposed to be the first chapter of the story that began as a one shot.
> 
> That makes the first chapter 27,345 words.
> 
> WHAT!!!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

Serena squalled, indignant in her current position and intent on making sure everyone within a mile heard about it. She batted at the floor with short arms for good measure, just in case anybody missed the screeching.

"I know, I know baby," Elena sighed, shaking a toy near her ear. The distraction failed; her limbs extended outwards as she kept crying. "I know you don't like tummy time, but you have to have tummy time."

She pulled the toy away so it resided in Serena's line of sight.

"Do you like the whale?" She gently pressed Serena's cheek with the blue toy. "You liked it yesterday…" slowly the indignation tapered off. "Yeah?"

Serena snuffed, considering the pink swirls in the whale's cheeks.

"There you go," Elena exhaled a sigh of relief, "we just needed something fun."

It had taken weeks to work Serena up to five minute stints of tummy time. They went through the ritual together three times a day, and three times a day her heart broke to the sound of her baby girl's tears.

"Do you know what today is?" She moved the whale aside; Serena's head turned with it. "Today you're three weeks old, and your belly button is all healed up, yes it is," she cooed. "And that's a little strange because the cord just fell off yesterday, so I need you to tell me the truth, little lady," her smile wrinkled her nose. "Did Elijah give you blood?"

Serena reached out, clumsy and slow, for her nose and banged Elena's chin instead. She liked Elijah. She liked Elijah a lot. The first time she had enjoyed tummy time was when the first time he visited. She spent the time on his chest.

She would treasure the candid photo of Elijah Mikaelson wearing a three-piece suit laying flat on his back with her tiny pink baby on his chest for the rest of eternity.

Literally.

Serena liked tummy time when she spent it on Elena's chest too, but since she couldn't do that every time they were both subjected to the upset of the floor.

"I'll call him later and get an answer."

The timer on her phone went off.

She sat up and lifted Serena, fitting her in the sling that had become a constant part of her post pregnancy wardrobe; Serena loved it, going so far as to happily coo when she was snuggled up close.

"Now we can do something you like." She got to her feet and snatched her heavy cardigan from the chair, carefully putting it on. "That's right, we're going for a little walk."

She went downstairs, adding the support of her arms to the sling, and out the glass door where a blast of fresh air hit her in the face.

"Cool, cool, cool," she sang.

Her arms closed the sides of her cardigan, trapping warmth around the baby. Then she took a small path into the woods, going twenty-odd yards to circle around a tree.

"I used to play here with uncle Jeremy," her eyes flicked upwards, "you can't see it, but there is a tree house up there. Maybe when you're bigger we can climb up. There's a really pretty view of the lake.

She started back and paced the length of the dock, giving Serena what she liked. Elena didn't understand what it was, but once Serena was fed and freshly diapered she enjoyed a turn by the lake; she loved something about the peaty smell of algae in the fresh air.

The gentle lap of water began to lull her to sleep.

"When you wake up from your nap we are gonna try something new, okay?" She stopped and kissed her cheek. "I, for one, am crossing my fingers that you like it so we don't have another tummy time fiasco."

"I love you," she breathed, pressing another kiss to her brow.

* * *

"Alright, Serena," Elena gently removed the onesie, "here's the deal: if anybody asks you mommy did not extensively google 'baby's first bath'. Got it?"

Her mouth quirked up in a reflex smile when Elena stroked her belly.

She got Serena down to her diaper and did one final check, making sure she had everything within arms reach. She tested the water twice and once satisfied with the temperature reached to remove the diaper.

Her phone, luckily in reach, lit up; she pressed two buttons in quick succession.

"Elijah," she greeted, seeing the caller ID.

 _"Elena,"_ she heard the smile in his voice. _"I thought you might enjoy some conversation."_

"Lucky, then, that you're just the vampire I wanted to talk to." She cradled her daughter, supporting her head as she lowered her into the infant tub. "I've got an adorable little girl here with a healed belly button. You wouldn't know anything about that?"

 _"Babies are remarkably resilient."_ His throat cleared.

"And this one had a little help from an Original," she teased, keeping her tone light so he knew she wasn't mad; at least not entirely. "You can't heal everything. Mommy and the pediatric ward frown on that."

 _"I will only intervene when she is in pain. Is that agreeable?"_ He chuckled.

"What's your excuse this time?" She paused an inch above the water, panicking for a second when she saw Serena's eyes close, but she was merely looking down.

_"The injury was causing immense discomfort when she laid on her stomach. The little darling kept crying."_

"E for effort," she finally got Serena in the inch of water, "but she hates tummy time, though, apparently, not the bath."

_"She's not afraid of the water then?"_

Serena's lashes kissed her cheek.

"Nope," she sighed. "I even got a reflex smile." She dipped a cloth in the water and gently wrung it out, dribbling warm water on Serena's belly. "Do you like the water, baby girl?"

Serena's eyes ceased their search for the source of Elijah's voice, focusing instead on her mother. Her eyes, normally the deepest of blues, glowed electric.

A scream ripped from Elena's throat.

Serena's face screwed up in response to the sound; her wails joined in the shriek.

The door flew inwards and swung, knocked off one hinge; it banged, denting the wall.

"Elena?" Strong hands gripped her shoulders.

She cut off her scream, clamping her hand over her open mouth. Words stuck in her throat. It was all she could do to grab onto his tie and dart bright eyes to her squalling newborn.

Elijah reigned in his breathing. As an Original his speed could only be rivalled by Klaus. It was no problem to cross the twenty-five miles that separated the lake house from the recently reopened mansion in moments, but seconds had been pushing it.

His ears sought any form of danger as he lifted the wet newborn, but beyond her cries he caught only the sound of crickets.

 _"What the bloody hell is going on over there?"_ Klaus' voice rose from the speaker. Kol's followed suit, reminding Elijah of the phone he had dropped.

Elena managed to stutter out two words.

"Her eyes."

Elijah paused in wrapping the towel around a slowly calming Serena. He lifted a brow, signalling Elena to continue. The phone remained silent; he could practically see both brothers staring at the device miles away.

"Th-they gl-glowed."

He cradled Serena and slammed the end call button.

Pulling out a kitchen chair, he sat and spoke slowly.

"What do you mean they glowed?" He looked down into Serena's normal, if somewhat wet, eyes as he instigated the transfer; for a single beat he feared she might reject her daughter, but there was no hesitation in her movement when she took the baby, desperation obvious in the gentle hold.

She pressed her to her breast, kissing and smelling the top of her head; a hint of terror shadowed her gaze.

"Elena?"

"Bright blue," she muttered, "electric blue; it scared me, and I… I scared her."

She stammered apology after apology meant for the baby. In between she added 'I love you' and head kisses, tapering off when Elijah pulled her into a hug.

"You didn't mean to scare her," he murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

"Why would her eyes do that?" She breathed fast, gazing down at the baby. Serena gazed right back with an expression that suggested Elena was crazy.

"I don't know. I've only heard of the Hollow having that effect on eyes." He recognized the mistake when she stiffened and pressed a comforting kiss to her forehead. "It's not that; remember that the Hollow is dealt with. Are you sure about what you saw?"

"I'm not crazy." Her phone buzzed, flashing Elijah's name.

"I would never suggest that you are," he held her face, tenderly wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "You do have a newborn, however, and sleep deprivation can inspire hallucinations."

"I know what I saw," she shook her head. "I put her in the water and her eyes glowed. You took her out and they stopped."

"Okay," he nodded, rolling up his sleeves. He removed his watch and the silver bracelet from his right wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing bath time," he tested the water. "It will be easier to find out what happened if I see it myself."

"Right," she breathed. Steeling her nerves, and reminding herself not to scream, she unwrapped her gurgling baby and carefully placed her back in the infant tub. She stayed close so she could hold Serena's gaze and waited; the water swirled around her lower body.

With the baby's eyes open she saw the takeover, spreading in a circle from her pupils until the irises glowed.

Elena could admit it was king of pretty when she expected it, like bioluminescent plankton underwater, but that didn't make it less scary.

"I told you so," she leaned back, giving him room to see, but when she looked she found his gaze focused on the water.

"Did you happen to notice her feet?" His brows drew together as if working out a particularly challenging puzzle.

She followed his gaze, swallowing. His large hand cupped a tiny foot beneath the water for her inspection. The same blue that flooded her eyes danced between her toes in lines so thin she could barely see them; they disappeared when he lifted her foot above water, reappearing when he dropped it.

Serena gurgled, happy as a clam in her bath.

"Elijah, what's happening to her?" Anxiety crept up her throat.

"I don't know," he admitted, "it doesn't seem to be hurting her. Could it be genetic?"

"Obviously not from me," she shook her head. Her hands went through the cleaning motions to remain busy. "And I don't know the other way. What if it can hurt her?"

"We'll do everything we can to keep her safe, and as far as knowing goes there may be a way."

Her eyes snapped to his face.

"I know a witch who has had success in dealing with the mind," he explained, "lifting compulsion and removing memories. If she can remove them then she might be able to find lost memories trapped in your mind."

"What's the catch?" She wrung out the wet cloth.

"I have no method of contacting her. If we desire her aid the request must go through Kol, and Kol will not help without a good reason." He kept one hand in the water and used the other to hold her wrist. "I might have to reveal some of the situation to him, and as that is information you told me in confidence I will not repeat it without your permission. Know, however, that once it reaches Kol is likely to spread to Niklaus and onward to Caroline."

"How likely?" She pressed her lips together.

"It might take time, but eventually the information will slip. Kol struggles with secrets," he chuckled. "If its not Niklaus then its Rebekah, and it reaches him regardless, and he's always struggled to keep information from Caroline."

She nodded slowly, considering as a plan formed in her mind.

"I want to tell Caroline and Bonnie myself," she exhaled. "Jer and Ric too. He's back in town tomorrow."

She dried one hand and reached for her phone, declining the incoming call. Her thumb clicked out a quick message to the four important people in her life.

**Lunch 2PM Grille? N2T**

"Ask him please," her phone pinged with responses. "Tell him what you need to."

"As you wish," he nodded, making her flush.

* * *

"Okay," Elena leaned over, peering into the car seat, "first outing. You and I are going to get through this with minimal tears and no tantrums."

The bell jingled over the door, signalling the arrival of several deputies. A few students from the high school came in behind them. The teenagers were followed by Hope Mikaelson.

The tribrid broke off from the crowd, glancing after them as they approached the pool tables. Her analytical gaze left the group and swivelled to the bar, but paused when they caught Elena.

She straightened up and offered the girl a wave. The motion of her hand sent Hope into action, weaving through the tables until she stood behind an empty chair by Elena's empty table; determination flashed in her blue eyes.

"Hello," Elena smiled. "You look better," her fingers twisted in the loose sling. "I mean, Elijah told me you were better, and now I can see that you look it."

"Yeah," she brought her fingers to her lips, "no more creepy black veins sucking the life out of me."

"You feel better?" She tilted her head.

"Yeah," Hope nodded. "Thank you. I know how much you hate my dad."

"I don't hate your dad," she frowned.

"I read the journals in the library," she stared hard at the table. "I know what he did to you… that he was the big bad wolf."

"That might be true," Elena nodded. She lifted Serena when she started to fuss, holding her so she could snuggle against her neck. "Actually it is true, but there's one account missing from the archive because I burned it to ashes before you were born. I don't like your dad, and I'm on the fence when it comes to trusting him, but I don't hate him. And even if I did, you're not him, and I would never take my dislike out on you."

"You don't?" Hope pulled out the chair and sank into it. "Isn't he supposed to be the irredeemable villain of your story?"

"Maybe," she rubbed Serena's back, "but hatred takes up too much energy, and nobody is irredeemable. 'Anyone capable of love can be saved'." She quoted words Caroline had said years ago. "Your dad's had a weird way of showing it over the years, but he loves fiercely."

"He was going to die to save me," she blinked rapidly, eyes glistening. "Uncle Kol found white oak and got dad to admit it; because 'no ocean was deep enough'."

Words stuck in her throat.

"My mom died," she sniffled. "She sacrificed herself to save me and…"

"You nearly lost your dad too," Elena finished. She adjusted Serena into the sling so she could reach out and cover the girls hands. "I've been there Hope. I lost almost every parental figure I had. It took me a long time to realize this, but it wasn't my fault," she squeezed her hands, "and it's not your fault either."

"I'm sorry about your mom; she seemed pretty cool the one time I met her."

"She was," Hope rubbed her lips together. "It still feels like my fault."

"It wasn't," she exhaled, "and whenever you need to hear that your uncle Elijah has my number."

"I don't want to bug you."

"You're not bugging me, I promise." She saw Hope's eyes fall to the sling. "Do you want to hold her?"

She hesitated a moment before nodding and moving to a closer chair. She held out her arms, following Elena's quiet instructions to support the head.

"She's so tiny," Hope smiled softly.

"Elijah told me you were smaller." Her head snapped up when a flash went off.

"Sorry," Caroline grinned, "I couldn't resist Klaus tormenting material." Her eyes flickered to Alaric as she sat. "Come on grandpa, don't stand on ceremony."

"Step-grandpa," he rolled his eyes. "What are you doing here Hope?"

"Landon's shift ends in a few minutes," she wiggled her finger in Serena's grip. "I was gonna walk back to school with him and run more tests."

"Still no idea what he is?" Elena frowned, glancing at the baby. "Other than that, how's he adjusting?"

Bonnie and Jeremy strode into the Grille.

"He's doing fine," Caroline tucked hair behind her ear.

"He likes it better than the high school," Hope looked up, catching Landon's eyes when he clocked out. "I should get going; I'm in somebody's seat."

"And I'm taking someone's baby," Jeremy stopped at the chair, carefully lifting the baby into his arms. "Hello Serena, I'm your uncle Jeremy: that voice you've been hearing on the phone."

Hope said a quick goodbye and caught Landon's hand as they left.

"Klaus know about that?" Elena jerked her head towards the door.

"He hates it," Caroline smirked. "Rebekah's planning a June wedding."

"What did you want to talk about Elena?" Bonnie folded her arms on the table. "Is this about the… you know?"

"No," she shook her head, looking down into her daughter's face. "It's about Serena. There's something I haven't told you guys."

* * *

Unsurprisingly he found Kol in the library.

His baby brother would spend his eternity surrounded by tomes, spurred by his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. He had claimed happiness at the time to have a second chance and die a witch as he should have the first time around, and never a day went by that he didn't miss being a witch, but Kol loved his vampirism.

One lifetime was simply not enough to learn everything, so he would take as many as he could get.

"Have you ever considered putting what's in your head to use?" Elijah flipped over a book, examining the embossed spine. "I'm sure Caroline could use more teachers."

"I'd make a terrible teacher," he flipped a page without looking up.

"You taught Henrik," he turned the book over in his hands, fiddling with the cover. "You've taught spells to Hope, and, though I'm not a fan of your motivations, you taught Mary Alice Claire and Astrid Malchance."

"Are you trying to get me out of the house, brother?" He shut his book with a sigh, sending up a fine cloud of dust from the weathered pages.

"It was just a thought that you could have taken as a compliment."

Kol rose from the leather sofa and crossed to the drinks cart, pouring two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler.

"You want something from me," he spun, raising the glass to his lips. "Out with it."

"Very well," he placed the book on a low table. "I need you to call Davina."

Kol scoffed, breath fogging the glass. "Why would I call my ex-girlfriend?"

"Because she has a spell that help Elena…" Kol's laughter cut him off.

"In that case it's a resounding no." He slammed down his glass.

"Kol…"

"Not happening," he shook his head and strode for the door.

Elijah grabbed his arm. He pulled away, rounding on his brother.

"I wouldn't ask if…"

"No, Elijah," he pushed a finger over his heart. "That woman killed me, and the only reason I haven't returned the favour is because of your involvement with her. There is literally nothing you could say that would make me want to help her."

He moved to leave again, got halfway to the door, and stopped up short at the sound of Elijah's quiet voice.

"Luta Flosadóttir." He allowed the name a moment to sink in and conjure the right images. He saw her as he suspected Kol saw her: golden hair stained with mud, once cheerful eyes haunted. She had been meant to be his wife before her ruin and the fear that settled in her bones.

Her attacker fell to Kol's sword; Luta to his teeth.

Kol turned to face him, the ghost of his first love in his eyes. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Ten months ago she lost time, a handful of hours," Elijah slipped his hands into his pockets. He had instantly regretted the low blow, but it had achieved the desired outcome. "Not much in the grand scheme of things, but those missing hours resulted in Serena."

"And now she wants to remember it?" His eyes narrowed. "Luta would have given anything to forget."

"Personally, I think she would love to put it behind her, but last night Serena demonstrated a supernatural ability that makes finding the man imperative," he tilted his head, pursing his lips. "And once she understands her daughter's needs, I would like to know who was responsible, it would be a shame to castrate the wrong man."

"Davina hates you," Kol clenched his teeth.

"She doesn't hate you," he lifted his chin. "Bonnie could do the spell; she just needs to know the spell, and you can get it. And," he added, "if it helps, Elena does regret her part in killing you."

"I know," Kol snorted.

"You know?"

"She apologized," he rolled his eyes, "however, since she was under the influence of heavy painkillers I have elected no to accept it."

Realization lifted Elijah's brows. "You _were_ in the delivery room."

"For a moment," he sighed. After a beat he reached into his back pocket for his phone. "What is she? The baby?"

"I don't know." Glowing eyes flashed in his mind. "I'm hoping Elena's memory will shed light on that."

Kol turned over his phone, considering the screen before clicking the name.

She answered on the third ring.

"Bonnie," he greeted, "are you up for a little road trip. I have a spell you might be interested in… yes… I'll pick you up at four."

He hung up and met his brother's eyes.

"Thank you."

"I'm not doing this for her."

* * *

She waved a soft toy around, brushing a hand and tickling an ear. The repaired door swung open. She spared it a glance.

"You might consider locking your door. There are dangerous people in the world." Elijah hung his jacket in the closet.

She pushed up to sit and brought Serena, pleasantly warm and lethargic from tummy near the fire, into her arms. Her face tucked under Elena's chin.

"Arguably the most dangerous people in the world have an invitation that no lock could keep out, but I will start locking the door on one condition."

He crossed the open concept and sank down, folding his legs to sit comfortably in front of the fire.

"Are you negotiating with me?" He tilted his head, amusement showing in the corner of his mouth.

The question brought a warm smile to her lips.

"Isn't that our thing?" The fire cast orange light over his features.

"I suppose it is," he nodded slowly. "What would you ask of me tonight?"

She shifted her weight on her hip, kept one hand firmly on Serena's head, and slipped her fingers into her pocket. Warm metal touched her skin.

The fire cast a glowing reflection on the ceiling.

"A key?" He lifted an eyebrow, eyes flickering from it to her.

Her thigh brushed his leg, sending a jolt of electricity through him; nothing compared to the fire of her fingers placing the key in his palm.

"You know," she shrugged, meeting his eyes. "In case she scares me again, and I scream, you won't have to knock my door down."

"In theory your idea is sound," he huffed a soft laugh, dropping his eyes to the key, "but if you're screaming I'm still…"

His eyes snapped up at the feel of her soft lips against his mouth. The key fell, muffled by the baby blanket, as he raised his hand to her cheek and slid his fingers into her hair. Every gentle movement felt familiar and new, lasting an eternity and ending far too soon; she went for second, quick, peck and leaned back to breathe.

For a long moment his gaze remained locked on her parted lips, mesmerized by the soft gasp of air that made his head spin. Until then he hadn't realized how much he had longed for the kiss, and to see how differently she would react with emotion in place.

Only he couldn't concentrate on her emotions for the spin of his.

Saying he could and taking the initiative herself were different things.

"Elena," he breathed, longing to see into her thoughts. "Why?"

"I missed you," she echoed his words from a lifetime ago in a teasing voice that earned a chuckle. The amusement turned serious, coupled with dark searching eyes. "And I wanted to."

"And you're doing what you want these days?" A few strands of hair tickled his wrist.

"As long as it's not harmful to my health," her lashes fluttered, lingering against her cheekbone, "or anyone else's health."

"I see," his fingers slid to her throat, skimming her hammering pulse. "And what would you like to do now?"

"About a million and one things," she breathed, inching closer, "but right now I'd like to do that again."

His lips were on hers before she stopped talking, cutting off her words with a slow kiss. His tongue traced the softness of her mouth and coaxed shivers from her body. A short squall brought him crashing back to earth.

He broke away, lips swollen, to cast his eyes upon her breast.

"I think something wants your attention," his voice came out low.

Serena's squall morphed into a full-blown 'I'm-hungry-feed-me-now-please' cry. He had learned to differentiate during the first week when he began his daily visits to the lake house; he knew the sounds that indicated hunger and a dirty diaper, as well as indignation and a need for immediate comfort.

So far only Kol had mocked him.

"Like clockwork," she smiled, glancing at his watch.

Elijah shifted back, giving her some room to adjust her hold. While she unfastened the buttons on her shirt he pocketed the key and lifted the soft blanket, offering the cotton to Elena.

She draped it over her shoulder; Serena squirmed until it fell away.

"How did lunch go?" He asked, watching the fire to afford her some privacy.

"Well, she didn't try to expose me to the Grille when she was hungry," she frowned when Serena squirmed, more focused on the too warm blanket than feeding.

Elena tossed it aside.

"Does that make your first outing a success?" He looked to find Elena watch Serena eat.

She ran a finger over her cheek.

"In terms of baby's first outing, yes. Mommy's first outing, on the other hand…" she chewed her bottom lip. For a moment the only sound was Serena's greedy suckle. "I told them… I told them what I told you."

He lifted an arm over her shoulders; she leaned into his side, accepting the kiss to the top of her head.

"As predicted Caroline wants to hop a plane back to Brazil and burn the village down for answers." She pressed her cheek to his chest. "Ric doesn't know what to say, but he was furious. I spent twenty minutes convincing Jer that what happened has no bearing on how I feel about Serena. And Bonnie went off somewhere with Kol after promising answers."

Her finger moved up and down the baby's cheek.

"Does her skin feel dry to you?"

The question took him by surprise and he looked down. His eyes found the spot in question, dull and red beneath Elena's hovering finger.

"That wasn't there a moment ago," he skimmed the dry patch. "It feels dehydrated."

Serena turned away from his finger, losing her latch.

"She shouldn't be dehydrated," Elena licked her lip. She cupped Serena's cheek and attempted to help her reattach, but she refused to cooperate.

"Why is she dehydrated?" Hysteria laced her voice.

"I don't know, Elena," he found her chin, coaxing her face up to meet his eyes. "Breathe, lovely; I'll get the baby oil."

She sucked in a deep breath and felt some of her tension ease.

"It's in my bag," she nodded towards the couch.

Serena wailed suddenly. The new sound made Elena's heart pound.

"I don't understand; babies don't dry out like this."

She cuddled her close, offering comfort while she waited.

"Don't some have dry skin?" He reached into the diaper bag, closing his fingers around the bottle. "Could it be eczema?"

"Doesn't happen this fast," she shook her head, lowering Serena to the floor.

She took the oil, spreading it on the widening patch; it soaked in with no visible effect.

Serena's limbs flailed; she cried harder.

"It's okay baby, shh…"

Panic settled beneath her breast when her eyes followed a dry patch down her neck.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled the zipper all the way down to Serena's foot. Dry spots in various stages of dehydration dotted her belly and exposed legs.

"Oh God," she slapped a hand over her mouth. She looked up; tears leaked from her eyes. "What's wrong?"

He could only shake his head.

Elena worked her tiny limbs free as gently as possible. Her eyes dropped to Serena's feet; spots of blue glowed and vanished rapidly as they had the previous night.

Her brain scrambled, connecting the dots from the scant information.

"Shh, sweetie, shh," she tried to pick her up without touching dry skin, but she seemed to be composed of nothing but dry skin. "Did anything like this happen to Hope?"

"No, but Hope has vampire blood," fear glittered in his eyes, "she's never been sick except for when the Hollow was in her. Do you want me to heal her?"

She struggled to hold the tenuous grasp she had on self-control as a desperate idea took shape in her mind.

"I want to try something first," she murmured, climbing to her feet.

She felt him on her heels as she hurried into the kitchen. She twisted the taps, forcing herself to wait until the temperature was right before putting in the plug and removing the dry diaper.

Her hands supported Serena in the sink. The few inches of water absorbed into her skin, halting the level from rising.

The screeching turned to tears and finally sniffles before stopping.

"She needed a bath?" Elijah frowned, scooping water over Serena's torso. "Why does she need to soak in water?"

"I don't know." Her stomach trembled. She kept a firm grip on the baby as she curled her little arms over her belly. "Does this mean I'm supposed to bathe her everyday? All of the books say that dries babies out."

"I think Serena's a special case."

Glowing blue eyes watched him carefully. It took several passes of water before the blotches vanished, more to return her skin to a healthy pink.

"Are you sure you've never seen this before? Anything like it?" Elena spread water up the baby's back, breathing slow as he shook his head. "What about one of your siblings?"

"It's possible," he nodded, frowning, "maybe. I could take some pictures and ask them."

"Use my phone," she nodded to the living room, "I can print them and delete the digital copies."

"Are you certain?" He dried his hands. Water dripped from his cuffs.

"She's something," her teeth sank into her bottom lip, "and maybe whatever spell Kol brings back doesn't work. Maybe I never remember. And maybe that's better; I don't know. All I do know is that she was in pain and a lucky guess made her better. What if next time I'm not lucky, and you're not here to heal her?"

"Maybe I'll never leave," he held the button down to open her camera.

"If you never leave you might get sick of us," she tried to smile.

"I will never 'get sick' of you Elena," he swore, kissing her temple, "or her."

Serena turned her head from side to side, following the conversation with her eyes.

He zoomed in and captured an image of her eyes then took one of her toes.

Serena looked towards the slow stream of water where it flowed into the adjoining sink.

The water bent at an angle, hitting her belly and hands.

Elena gaped, wide eyes staring at the impossibility before them. Thin blue lines glowed between Serena's tiny fingers.

She gurgled happily.

"You might wanna get that too," she breathed out, turning to see the camera already raised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourite things about fan fiction, and fiction in general, is the ability to play around with mythology. With that in mind I have used the lore provided in canon and taken inspiration from a bunch of different sources for this story, including legends, mythology and other television shows. It's going to be several chapter yet before answers are forthcoming though.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff happening here. We've got some Kennett and Klaroline, some Kolvina. There's some cute Elijah and Serena too. And a much needed conversation between Caroline and Elena.

"Please tell me you have something else to listen to," Bonnie sighed. She slumped into her seat and poked at her ears. "I swear this is perforating my eardrums."

"What's wrong with opera?" He glided around three cars on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speed.

She hugged her jacket closed against a blast of cold air and spun to face him, folding one leg under the other.

"It's boring and loud and half the time at a register that only dogs can hear," she said, ticking off reasons on her fingers. "And slow down. You might not be able to die in a fiery car crash, but I can."

"I won't let you die Bonnie." He dutifully lowered his speed until he exceeded the limit by a measly thirty miles an hour. With his right hand he flipped to a second preset station. "Is Jazz more to your liking?"

"I'll take it over Opera," she rolled her eyes. "What's the rush?"

"Do you want me to slow down and delay answers for Elena?" Kol shifted lanes.

"No, but I do want to be able to actually help her, so it would be nice it you didn't wrap us around a telephone-pole." She leaned into his space, pressing close enough to smell his aftershave. "At this speed you're gonna turn a fourteen-hour drive into eight. Eager, much?"

"Eager to get this over with," he inhaled, breathing in the soft array of flowers clinging to her hair. "I want to get the spell from Davina and get out fast."

"Bad break-up?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Amicable, actually," he shook his head, passing two trucks.

Bonnie watched the half-tonnes shrink in her mirror before tapping her nail on the gear shift and turning her gaze to him.

"If it was amicable then why'd you bring me?"

"What do you mean?" His jaw clicked. It was the only chink in his calm.

"You don't need me to _retrieve_ a spell," she tilted her head, curls bouncing. "I'm clearly a buffer and I wanna know why."

He passed another car before he sighed.

"Because if the gossip has spread, as I suspect it has, it won't be anymore."

* * *

She watched the road without seeing the asphalt, taking twists and turns on autopilot. Elena's dark eyes flashed in her vision with every beat of her heart; she kept hearing the strain behind her even tone.

_I might not even need you; it could be another dead end._

Her stomach twisted up tight. Thirteen dead witches tight.

She took a left turn and was momentarily disoriented by the canopy of leaves that covered the winding driveway.

_You don't get to talk like that. There will be no giving up hope, and I am always going to help you._

She put the car in park, shut it down and hopped out. The door slammed behind her.

Her voice had been too even, too restrained, but her eyes had held the truth.

She paced towards the house and froze, staring up at the towering structure as her mind lingered somewhere back at the Grille. The conversation replayed again and again.

 _She_ loved her baby. _She_ possessed the protective instinct to keep her child safe. Anyone who looked at her, who watched her with the infant, could tell how much she loved her. She clearly didn't hold what had happened against her innocent child, but she saw it in Elena's eyes.

The haunted gaze of the violated.

And whether she had been physically harmed or not they knew for sure her mind had been invaded.

"Caroline?"

The voices in her head cut off. She stared at him across a sudden ringing silence, sucking in a deep breath that seared her lungs.

"I d… don't know why I'm here," she dipped her chin, applying pressure to her chest to keep it from trembling. The brief drive felt like a blur; she had been certain the roads led to the school, and yet.

He stepped lightly onto the drive, moving forward until he could reach out and lift her face.

"What happened?"

She shook her head, gaze focused on the gleam of gold along his jaw. Her shoulders rose in a shrug.

"Caroline, something is wrong," he moved his hands to her shoulders. "What happened?"

The trembling began somewhere behind her internal organs, spreading out in spasms until it overtook her hands.

"I don't know," she shoved her fingers through her hair, dislodging a few roots. The sting helped ground her. "I don't know, and she doesn't know, and that's the whole problem. And it's all my fucking fault!"

He took a small step back, giving her room to scrub her palms down her face, but kept his hands on her upper arms. His eyes roamed over her as he spoke slowly.

"I think I'm going to need a little more information, love."

"Why?" She scoffed, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's my fault!"

A memory tickled the back of her mind.

"And yours!" She shoved him hard; the change in demeanour caught him off guard.

He stumbled.

Confusion turned down the corners of his mouth.

"I was ready to run," she explained around a sob, "and then _you_ answered Stefan's phone!"

"Caroline…" he blinked once, mouth popping open.

"Somebody screwed with her memory so she would forget there was a chance she could be pregnant." Her hands balled into fists.

His mind reeled, trying to keep up with her train of thought. If he had it right they had gone from her self blame to the twins and were now jumping back. Although, how the two points connected remained a mystery to him.

"Elena?" He guessed, brows raising.

"She was only there because of me." Caroline suddenly spun on her heel and kicked the front tire of her car. Her aggression broke the perfect circle that had once been a rim.

"She went to Brazil for me!" She punctuated each word with another kick.

Klaus wrapped his arms around her upper body, trapping her arms as he pulled her back to prevent her inflicting further damage on her poor vehicle.

Caroline fought futilely, but she knew her chances of actually breaking free when Klaus had no intention of letting her go were non-existent.

Once she calmed down he allowed her the space to turn without letting go. His strong hands remained on her lower back, gently moving up and down in a soothing motion.

"I won't pretend to know everything, but I can tell you that whatever did happen was not your fault." He caught her gaze. "Odds are that whoever the person was to affect her memory did so after and unintentionally removed her daughter's conception."

A scream of frustration built in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it, and the urge to shove his perfectly reasonable explanation back in his face, down.

"She wants to believe that," her voice emerged strained, "but it's not what happened."

"How can you be so sure of that?" His fingers pressed gently against her spine. "You just claimed that nobody knew."

"Because she's my best friend," she shifted, losing the will to even pretend she didn't want to lean into his embrace, "and she was only missing for an hour and half, and she's not easy."

Tears flooded her eyes again. She made no attempt to stop him from lowering her head to his shoulder where she quickly soaked through his shirt. The gentle pressure of his fingers in her hair brought on more tears; it didn't matter how many times he claimed otherwise because she knew.

"It's my fault," she choked.

* * *

The rocking chair's gentle sway had long since lulled Serena to sleep. It reminded him of calmer days spent between the new world and the old long before air travel entered vogue. Were she a little older with the experiences to make comparisons he would have said the easy glide reminded her of water; something he knew she found soothing.

Anyone else would have placed her in the crib when she drifted off, but he persisted. The motion relaxed him, and he had given his word.

It was the only way Elena would agree to rest. He swore without hesitation to watch the infant throughout the night. He could have done the job just as well from the crib, but it eased his mind having her in his arms where it would be impossible to miss the first signs of dry skin.

And of course, Serena loved to be held; cradled in his arms or those of her mother.

It felt like a dream, snuggling an adorable baby while Elena got much needed rest. He would gladly take whatever mockery his siblings could dish out; it wouldn't change the fact the he would have happily let the world burn if she stayed safe and never again cried out in anguish.

He hadn't thought it possible to care for someone so deeply when they lay beyond the bonds of blood.

Marcel, adopted into the family, never found his way in, not completely.

Hayley took months and reminded him on many occasions why he spent so long shielding his heart.

Elena snuck up on him, found a backdoor and changed the locks before he registered what happened. No amount of reinforcement could keep her out because she was already in, not that he had tried after his mother's ritual. One failed attempt had been enough. She was in and that was that.

He didn't let people in easily, but one unfocused blink and an uncoordinated fist broke down his walls and built up new ones, reinforcing support around the infant he never wanted to let go of.

Until three weeks ago Hope had been the only one to ever evoke such a response from his heart.

Serena's even breathing stopped, halting his heartbeat. Panic gripped his chest until her breathing picked up again after a catch.

"Normal," he breathed, "perfectly normal."

Hope had stopped breathing many times, giving her parents joint heart attacks; Rebekah called it periodic breathing.

Knowing didn't keep his heart from stuttering.

"It's a good thing I'm frozen," he whispered, brushing a finger over her cheek, "or else you'd be giving me grey hair."

Her mouth twitched in a smile.

Across the hall Elena shifted in her sleep.

He wondered how much rest she truly gained in the midst of her tossing and turning. He offered her dreamless sleep, and he suspected she might have taken him up on it if the Grille hadn't put vervain in the decaf coffee she drank during lunch.

He shifted, settling in the chair for a long night, but before he could get comfortable a loud bang came from downstairs. A jolt traveled through him, but Elena hardly registered the the shock settled he accepted the knock hadn't been that loud.

The second threatened to knock the newly fixed door from the hinges.

He made his way downstairs, listening to the hiss beyond the front door.

"It's the middle of the night!"

He recognized the familiar sound of emotional exhaustion in Caroline's voice as he reached for the doorknob.

"She has a newborn. She's not asleep."

He opened the door, smirking when his brother jerked backwards to keep from falling inside the house. He brought his hand down for extra support on the wriggling baby.

"She has, in fact, been asleep for an hour in spite of having a newborn in the house."

"What the bloody hell are you doing her?" His eyes flickered to Elijah's arms.

"At this moment in time I am answering the door." His thumb touched Serena's soft cheek. He knew the picture he must have painted in his unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up; not even he could have said where his tie and suit jacket had ended up.

"Where's Elena?" He rolled his eyes.

"Were you not listening? She's asleep." His eyes narrowed as Klaus shouldered his way inside and up the stairs before he or Caroline could stop him.

"Niklaus!"

He followed, Caroline on his heels, and pulled his brother away, too late, by the back of his shirt.

Elena blinked through the cobwebs of nightmare fuelled sleep

She sat up, surveying the scene with a sigh.

"I knew I'd regret that invitation."

* * *

Bone deep exhaustion, the kind that gripped in the dead of night when consciousness forced away sleep, gripped her.

She mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, shoving her face into the pillow. Persistent fingers wrapped around the dark fabric of her comforter.

"Hope, wake up."

The blankets were thrown around her waist, making way for cold air to circle around her upper body.

"No," she whined, curling into the fetal position.

"Hope!" Hands shook her shoulder.

She cracked open an eye. Under the weight of exhaustion her stare felt less withering. A mop of curly black hair came into view. It took an incredible amount of effort to lift her head and read the bright green numbers of the alarm clock.

"It's 2:48 in the morning," she could barely lift her voice above a whisper.

He fidgeted, clutching and smoothing out his sweater. "I have to talk to you."

"At 2:48 in the morning?" She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "I was sleeping."

She could feel him moving, bouncing with nervous energy. Under normal circumstances, at more reasonable hours, she found his idiosyncrasies adorable, but it was 2:48 in the freaking morning.

She liked sleep.

Scratch that, she loved sleep.

She wanted to remembrance sleep, but his bouncing leg made it impossible.

She peeked again: 3:01.

"Landon," she dragged out his name.

"I stole something," he blurted.

Her eyes snapped open as she bolted upright and crossed her arms. She blinked away her bewilderment to study the conflicting emotions on his face.

"I don't know why I did it," he hurried, explaining in a whisper, "I don't even remember doing it."

"Then how do you know you stole it?" She stifled a yawn.

"Because I remember it from the tour," he reached into his pocket for a short dagger. "It glowed from my backpack and woke me up."

"It glowed?" Her sleep addled mind refused to register the significance of his words.

"Bright orange," he nodded, "like fire."

"You couldn't have stolen it," she rubbed her eyes, coming awake with each word. "There are wards."

"Then how did I get it?" He countered, emotions going out of control. His eyes tracked her as she stumbled out of bed and shoved her feet into slipper boots. "Where are you going?"

"Coffee," she cinched a purple robe around her waist, "then find out how you got it."

Days spent unable to sleep while the Hollow poisoned her body meant she knew the quietest path through the hall, keeping her off the teacher's radar.

In the kitchen she went through the motions of making coffee between yawns.

"Coffee?" She poured cream and sugar. Her nose wrinkled at the two sweet taste, but she lacked the energy to remake it.

"Aren't werewolves wide awake at night?" Landon shook his head and followed her into the hall, falling into step at her side.

"Only on full moons," she whispered. Her hand shot out, fingers clutching the front of his hoodie to stop him. In her mind's eye she saw the outline of the hot spots as if marked with bioluminescent paint.

"Squeaky floorboards," she jerked her chin to a closed door, "and Mr. Williams is a light sleeper."

"So how do we get to the library?" He focused on the dark door less than twenty feet away.

"Follow me and step exactly where I step." She sat her empty mug on a hall table and began picking her way across the floor. She kept one hand behind her, holding tight to Landon.

Her eyes narrowed when they got close. She stopped up suddenly, nearly tumbling into a wall when Landon ran into her; his arms around her waist saved them a loud bang. Low voices drifted out of the ajar door with a distant light from a lamp.

"I think someone noticed," she hugged his arms, muttering a spell under her breath to turn them invisible. "Don't let go."

* * *

Caroline shifted on the bed, smoothing out the material of a striped onesie.

Elena patted Serena's back absently as she nursed and watched the stacks of clean clothes get higher. The silence stretched out between them until she physically couldn't take it.

"Care, what's going on?" She watched her shoulders draw up and elbows tuck in. "Come on, Care. Klaus didn't barge in here so you could compulsively fold my laundry."

"If I don't fold it you'll put off putting things away and pick up clean stuff from the baskets." Her eyes darted up and then back to the blanket in her hands. "Why not just hold it when it comes out of the dryer?"

"I have a newborn," she lifted Serena to burp. Her fingers skimmed the soft skin for any signs of dryness.

"You've got Elijah here, if not 24/7 then close to it," she sighed. Out of laundry, she clasped her hands together in her lap. "Plus the rest of us popping in."

"Which is what enabled me to do the laundry. I'm not supermom like you."

"I'm not supermom," Caroline's laugh came out watery.

"You were a neurotic control freak before you became a vampire and gained the ability to speed clean," Elena crossed her legs and held Serena carefully as she placed her in the bassinet by the bed. "I have pictures of the Dallas house and I know Ric is the organized chaos kind. I did live with him. You worked, took care of the twins and kept the house immaculate. You're supermom, and I may have a little inferiority complex."

"Why?" Her brows shot up.

"Seriously?" Elena gestured to her bedroom. Books lay scattered across the nightstand, and thanks to Caroline they were the only things out of place. Her journal sat open on the last entry where she had listed the vague details of Serena's first bath; she still needed to add the dry out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, fingers plucking at a loose thread on the blanket.

"Don't worry," she waved a hand, yawning. "I'll find my groove and eventually get over it."

"Not that," her chin quivered.

Elena tilted her head.

"You…" Caroline faltered, reached a hand over to the bassinet. "Elena, you're only in this position because of me… because I dragged you with me to Brazil. I left you alone."

"No, you didn't."

"I did," she insisted. "I left you in the hotel alone."

"Where I was safe," Elena reached for her hands. "I made the choice to leave the room. I decided to go for a walk. When you left me to go to that meeting I was safe."

"It still feels like my fault," she shook her head.

"It wasn't, and I'm fine," Elena sank against the headboard.

"No, you're not," Caroline shifted and sat next to her, careful of the piled fabric. "I know the signs Elena, and now that I know what happened they all make a lot more sense." She took a deep breath, holding Elena's hands tighter. "You pulled away from us. You hid what happened. For months you would jump when anyone touched you."

Elena chewed on her bottom lip.

"I don't know what happened." Her stomach trembled.

"Yeah, you do." Caroline blew out a rush of air. "You're not one-night-stand-girl Elena, and that should have been my first clue. Somebody violated you, and you didn't tell anyone."

"I told Elijah," she protested in a small voice.

"And if the two of you weren't the two of you that might actually sting." Tears burned in her eyes. "I guess I can't blame you for not telling me sooner… I never told you."

"Care?" Her heart stuttered with foreboding. "Oh my God, Care."

She sat up.

"He… he convinced me I wanted it, and after I turned he made me think it was my fault," she whispered in a hollow voice. "And then rituals and hybrids complicated things. You got a sire bond and I convinced myself it was better for you, and everyone else, not to know."

"I…" Elena swallowed. "Caroline, I… I thought he was just feeding on you; that's why Stefan helped me get you on vervain. If I.. if I had known I wouldn't have… I would have told him to go to hell." Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I know," she felt a sob in the back of her throat.

The slid down in the bed, laying side-by-side. She curled an arm around Elena's waist and blinked back her own tears to focus on the shimmering brown eyes of her best friend.

"Call it even?" She grimaced at her lame attempt to joke.

Elena's laugh caught on a sob. "The other option is to say 'I-hate-you' and go our separate ways."

"We're beyond the point of leaving each other," Caroline sighed. "Forgive me?"

"I never blamed you, but yes." She hugged her close. "Forgive me?"

"I was bitter for a while, and genuinely terrified for you, but I already forgave you." Caroline managed a half-smile. "And you seemed happy enough when you turned it back on and the bond was gone."

Elena lowered her eyes, cuddling closer.

"What is it?" Her eyes narrowed.

"It wasn't gone," she whispered. "Damon didn't want to hear that it was still there so I lied. And to make sure he never found out I lied to everyone."

Caroline was silent for a long while, digesting the information. When she did speak it was in a decidedly calm voice.

"Do you think if we told Bonnie she could find a way to bring him back so we can kill him?"

"I think a spell like that could kill her," she shook her head. Exhaustion beckoned her close.

"Best to let sleeping dogs lie," she shut her eyes.

* * *

If she had accurately kept count it was her fourth yawn. Stifling it brought tears to her eyes, blurring the store fronts and street signs into a solid block of multiple colours. Several quick blinks brought her surroundings into crystal clear focus.

She saw the ceiling of the car with perfect clarity.

Her fingers curled around the warm wool covering her from chin to knee, mapping the dark blue material down to where it bunched near her hips and protected her from the sharp dig of the belt buckle.

"You covered me up," she mumbled. Her fingers fumbled near the door, hunting for the lever that would raise her into a seated position again.

She saw him shrug from the corner of her eye as she rose.

"You looked cold."

"And laid me down?" The seat snapped up, hitting her back with a dull thud.

"There would have been a crick in your neck otherwise." He pulled into a parking space.

"Did you speed up again?" She squinted at the dash clock.

"Yes," he turned off the ignition, "because if I stuck to your speed we wouldn't have gotten here until 10 in the morning."

"That's not right," she sighed. Her stomach growled, reminding her of the last meal she ate before they left Mystic Falls.

"What is right?"

Her mind scrambled. She carried ones and sevens and put decimals in the wrong places before admitting the fog in her brain was to dense for simple addition so she held no hope of mentally working a complex problem at 4 in the morning without chemical assistance.

"I'll tell you after coffee."

A shiver travelled up her body when she stepped onto the street; Kol's jacket settled on her shoulders. Standing made the material swing around the bottom of her thighs, lower than half of the dresses in her closet.

"You're tall," she garbled around a yawn.

"And you're very articulate before coffee," he chuckled, steering her with a hand on the small of her back. "Come on, love."

Bonnie made no comment to the physical contact, though he suspected an earful after the caffeine hit her bloodstream. Then again, she had never scolded his behaviour during Elena's labour.

They crossed through the familiar green of Jackson Square. It was as deserted as any place in New Orleans could be during the early hours of the morning.

A handful of people occupied a handful of tables in the café that would bustle with energy in a handful of hours.

He left Bonnie beneath a green and white awning, sitting in a dark green chair.

She blinked at her surroundings.

He wondered from his place at the counter if the wrinkle in her brow was the result of attempting more mental math or if her confusion came from the sudden stillness.

She startled when he returned with two steaming cups and two orders of beignets.

Her throat released a pleased hum when she sipped the coffee. She had finished half the cup before he made it through the first beignet.

"I thought you two were living in San Francisco." Bonnie picked up a beignet. Warmth radiated beneath the layer of powdered sugar.

"Were you keeping track of me daring?" He took a bite to mask his smirk.

"It's always best to know where the hurricane's brewing."

He huffed.

Powdered sugar blew out in a cloud, dotting her cheeks with ghostly freckles that she swiped away before eating her own beignet.

Her eyes went round.

"We were in San Francisco, but Davina moved back here after we ended things since her magic is stronger here."

"All magic is," she murmured, watching the tiny hairs rise on her hand. "I can feel it humming under my skin like electricity. It's making the air static."

"I remember that feeling," he nodded. At her confused frown he explained about the months spent in the body of Kaleb. "It was another attempt of my mother's to kill her children; only in body though."

"Glad she didn't succeed. Though, I do admire her commitment to her goals." She polished off the first beignet. "And 8 am."

"8 am?" He tilted his head.

"That's when we should have arrived." Over the rim of her cup her eyes sparkled. "You took four hours off of the drive, maniac."

"Psychotic maniac."

Kol froze, cup halfway to his mouth, eyes darting towards the new voice. She stood watching them with crossed arms and a curious expression.

"Davina," he greeted, lowering his mug.

"Kol," she nodded, shifting her weight onto her heels. "What are you doing here?"

"At the moment I am plying Bonnie here with caffeine and sugar," he cleared his throat. "Then I was going to look for you."

"You drove through the night like a maniac to find me?" Her eyes darted briefly to Bonnie as her brows lowered; her gaze flicked to his daylight ring. "This have anything to do with the rumours about Rebekah?"

Bonnie traced the white cover on her cup, noting how the colour momentarily matched his complexion.

"I came for a spell…"

"So Rebekah's not human?" Davina cut in, pressing her fingers into her arms.

"She is…" he cleared his throat.

Information slotted in place from their conversation at the hospital until his comment about rumours and amicable splits made sense.

"Oh my…" her fingers flew to her open mouth. "You never told her about the cure."

Davina didn't want to turn. Kol didn't want to turn.

Kol knew every option. Davina knew one.

"There's a cure?" She took a step towards the table. "How long have you known about it?"

"Sorry," Bonnie mouthed her apology.

"Kol?" Davina prompted and when he didn't answer she turned her focus to Bonnie. "Do you know?"

"I…" she chewed her bottom lip, eyes darting from one to the other. Her nail scratched at the Café logo on her cup. "I'm a little fuzzy on the history. Wasn't it the twelfth century when you heard the rumours?"

"Early twelfth," he nodded.

"I don't care about rumours. I care about the facts." Heat flared in her eyes. "How long have you known?"

He inhaled slowly and tipped his cup around, addressing his answer to the powdered sugar dotting the table.

"I have known where to find it for nearly eight years, and I knew where to look when I was possessing Kaleb."

Jazz filled the ensuing silence. When Bonnie dared to look up it was into the face of indignation a split second before Davina Claire spun on her heel and stormed out.

"She's not gonna give you anything now is she?" Bonnie sighed. She got to her feet when he shook his head and left him at the table.

Davina's maroon jacket flashed between the locals on their way to work.

She ran around the people and after her, bemoaning her shoe choices.

"Wait up," she called, gasping for breath.

Against all odds Davina listened.

She caught up and sucked in large gulps of air as she whipped off the now too warm coat; Davina's eyes settled on the fabric.

"I'm not giving him anything." She crossed her arms.

"Then give it to me," Bonnie's breath puffed clouds in the air. "My best friend, we're practically sisters, just had a baby and because of magical interference she doesn't remember how she got pregnant. Elijah says you've worked with memory before; you can help her."

"Why don't you just ask her boyfriend, or retrace her steps?" Davina uncrossed her arms.

"She doesn't have a boyfriend, and retracing her steps doesn't give answers." Bonnie rubbed a stitch in her side, mentally making a note to get in shape again. "All signs point to someone hurting her."

Davina glanced beyond her shoulder; Bonnie looked back to find Kol on the street.

"He could have told me," her eyes narrowed.

"Could've, should've, didn't," Bonnie sighed. She kind of understood why; Davina had refused to entertain the idea of being a vampire, and Kol didn't want to be human. He wouldn't compromise when she wouldn't consider the more obvious option.

"This has nothing to do with him though. This has to do with a woman who's hurting and in desperate need of answers. So help me to help her."

She drew deep breaths, looking Bonnie up and down hesitantly.

"The Originals have a house in town, right?" Bonnie tucked her hair behind her ear.

"The Abattoir," Davina nodded.

"Okay, so we'll be around until tomorrow morning," she gestured over her shoulder. "Come morning we'll leave again, and I'm hoping it will be with one of your spells."

She left Davina standing in the square and walked back, coming to a stop in front of Kol.

"Withholding information? Really?" She handed him his coat.

"This information wouldn't have made a difference in our situation for many reasons that I told you weeks ago." He touched the bridge of her nose; his thumb came away with powdered sugar. "I saw no point in revealing the information and my reluctance to take the cure."

"Why not?" She fell into step beside him.

"I knew it was over, but she still made a formidable ally. Why introduce animosity?"

"I guess I can see your point," she nodded, eyes darting around the street. "Twenty-four hours in New Orleans… what to do?"

"I've got a handful of books I want to grab," he shrugged, "maybe there will be a spell in one for when Davina doesn't deliver."

"Have a little faith." She swayed, nudging his side.

"People these days don't have faith," he snorted.

"You're not exactly of _these days_ though," she teased.

"Are you calling me old?" He opened the passenger door.

"I'm calling you ancient," she flashed a quick smile. Her hand curled around the top of the door, brushing his fingers as she did; a tingle raced up her arm.

"Age brings experience, darling," he took a step, boxing her in the space between door and car.

Her heart skipped.

"Not necessarily wisdom," she breathed. Her eyes flickered to the smirk overtaking his lips.

"First I'm ancient and now I'm a fool?" He tilted his head.

"Your timing could be better," she tilted her head, holding his gaze.

"I happen to have excellent timing."

"Prove it."

His hand settled on her waist, pulling her body to him.

Her palms settled on his chest above his beating heart.

Her touch starved skin tingled everywhere their bodies met. She thought she might analyze that further, but then his mouth captured hers in a slow kiss.

He tasted of coffee and beignets; the combination sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she stood on tiptoe to get closer.

He pulled back, brushing a second kiss along her bottom lip that left her breathless.

Her lashes fluttered against her cheek. She stared a beat too long at his lips.

He noticed and smirked.

Could he smell what his kiss had done to her, or was the press of her body enough?

She struggled to think beyond the sensation of his strong fingers pressing deliciously into her hips and came up with a single word.

"B-books?"

* * *

"This couldn't have waited until the sun came up?" Elijah traced the rim of his mug. The white ceramic held a heavenly blend of coffee the he purchased after Elena compiled a mountain of research into the effects of caffeine on breast fed infants. Not the _he_ doubted her; the information was to convince Caroline when she inevitably found the bag of coffee.

"I couldn't allow Caroline to sink further into her guilt." Klaus stared out over the lake, vaguely illuminated in the pre-dawn. "It would have consumed her and destroyed half the mansion in the process. Your desk lays in ruins, by the way… not that you're ever there to notice."

"I'm at the mansion all the time," he looked up and then down, fascinated by the grain in the patio table.

"You have been there for a grand total of sixty-three hours in the last twenty-one days. Three hours in which you sleep, shower and change." Klaus scoffed.

"You know we don't require much sleep, Niklaus." He mused, tilting his head.

A slim vial of bright green weighed down his pocket. He had yet to find a suitable storage solution for the precious spell that felt safest on his person.

"How many of those other hours were spent here?" He took a drink of coffee.

"I've lost track," he shrugged. "Most of my time is spent here when I am not on the phone with various contacts in and around Brazil."

"Brazil," Klaus nodded, crossing one leg over the other as he tapped the table with a finger, "so you know?"

Elijah nodded, already having worked out that Caroline told him; he had thought the information would be leaked by Kol first.

"She told me a few hours before you arrive to beg her help." The wind ruffled the water. "I was looking for answers. It has recently become apparent that the information needs to be found sooner rather than later."

"Why? Did the bastard gift her something more than an unwanted child?" His expression darkened.

"No, Niklaus," he lifted his chin. If his brother's expression was dark his own was thunderous. "And you will not refer to Serena as such again. She is wanted even if the circumstances surrounding her conception are not."

Klaus went silent for a moment, letting the anger run its course. The cold fury rivalled the rage his brother had sported the night he awoke after the ritual.

"Very well," he finally said, "you would know better of that situation, after all, practically living here."

"I am not living here." Elijah returned his attention to the lake.

"I said: 'practically'," he smirked, "you're too comfortable with the girl to not be, and don't think I didn't notice that you restocked the pantry." He sipped his cup and raised both eyebrows. "The coffee blend is a dead give-away."

The wind kicked up.

"She's been a little too busy to run to the store."

"With the daughter who now requires answers," Klaus hummed. "Will you be explaining that one?"

"Serena is not entirely… human, he studied the stain at the bottom of the cup.

"Obviously not," he snorted, "her mother _is_ a gypsy and a doppelgänger."

"And she is something else."

"Something else? What else is there?" Klaus shifted, leaning over the table. "No supernatural species can make themselves apparent at that age. Unless it's a werewolf who killed their mother in childbirth, but those children never survive the first shift."

"She's not a wolf, and she's not a witch," he frowned. "There's some gypsy magic from Elena, but something else is dominant."

"There is nothing else, Elijah."

"Then I suppose there's not point in showing you the pictures," he set down his mug.

"What pictures?" Low growls drowned out his question.

Wind blew down, flattening their hair beneath a fast moving shadow.

Klaus looked up, sensing Elijah doing the same.

His mind struggled to accept the physical evidence blotting out the light. He reached blindly for Elijah's arm, afraid to take his eyes off the impossibility for even a second.

"Are you seeing this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do they see? What do they see? o_O


	9. Chapter 9

_Previously on A Year to Eternity…_

_'It's 2:48 in the morning'… 'I stole something… it glowed from my backpack'…_

_'There is nothing else, Elijah'… 'Are you seeing this'…_

* * *

"You found it like this when you locked up?" Alaric leaned over the display, mindful of his hand placement to avoid the glass shards. "None of the wards were breached?"

"Who could have pulled this off?" Dorian tipped the lantern. Light caught on various surfaces, showing the jagged breaks in the case.

"Technically one of the twins could have," he muttered. "Do you remember when Josie let the kids out of detention? Wendy, Diego and Jade."

"I remember the aftermath, but I didn't know Josie let them out." Dorian whispered. "You think one of your daughters did this?"

"No," he shook his head. "Why would they?"

Hope silently squeezed Landon's hand as she came to terms with her half backed plan to replace the knife and clean up the mess coming to a screeching halt.

"They could have siphoned away the wards," Dorian rubbed the back of his neck. "Someone else could have broken the case."

"But why that knife and who?"

"Whoever did it has to still be on campus. The gates only opened twice today when you and Caroline left and came back."

Landon shifted. His invisible knee caught a book. He watched it fall in slow motion, scrambling even slower to catch it.

The thud echoed in the dark.

Two beams of light hit them in the face; they shut their eyes against the blinding yellow.

"Who's there?" Alaric called. "Show yourself now and I might go easy on detention."

"I think we're caught," Landon whispered. He let go of her hand to black the light.

"Landon?" Dorian lowered his flashlight.

He glanced down, realizing he was visible. Hope popped into existence beside him.

"I told you not to let go of my hand," she hissed.

"Hope?" Alaric turned his light away. He released a sigh and shook his head. "What is it with teenagers? You have a single room and you're sneaking into the library."

"Maybe you shouldn't give them ideas, Ric," Dorian smirked. "Don't want her dad killing you."

* * *

"There's got to be a hundred books here," she breathed, surveying the display with wonder.

Her fingers implored her to trace the spines of each book in the glass case; she found her will powerless to stop the action. Some fit in the palm of her hand, those were ones that would have fit in the pocket of her snuggest jeans. Others were thicker than her thigh and the height of her torso. For every book written in English there were a dozen more in languages she had never heard of.

Bits of spine crumbled under her touch, leaving a fine dust of gold and silver on her skin.

She picked a tiny volume and gently turned the thin pages, spying the fine lines of her fingerprint through the paper. The outline of her finger through the translucent pages made the already indecipherable language impossible.

"Impressed?" Kol smirked, pulling book after book free.

"No," she denied, plopping down with one of the English books. "Two hundred and I'd be impressed, but one hundred and I'm just 'meh'," she held a hand flat over the floor, tipping it from side to side while miming a bored expression.

Kol sauntered over and rearranged the throw pillows to join her on the crimson fainting couch.

"This isn't my entire collection, love. There are several dozen more littering as many homes across the world."

"And you just left them there?" She shifted, pressing her thigh closer to his warm leg.

"I didn't have much choice in the matter when my father caught up to us," he shrugged, watching her flip pages from the corner of his eye. "It's one of the reasons I spent so many centuries on my own."

She balanced the book on her knees and tipped her head up, tracing the curve of his brow with her eyes.

"You went back."

"Nik and Elijah could have rotted away at the bottom of the deepest ocean for all I cared, but I never could refuse Rebekah and would inevitably return when she called. Had Nik ever bothered taking the dagger out of Finn I suspect he would have done the same."

"Finn?" Her eyes widened, voice rising in pitch. "The same Finn who colluded with Esther to kill all of you? That Finn?"

"You knew him after he spent an unknown number of centuries dagger and aware of it," he tilted his head, fingers absently drawing patterns on the page. "He woke up angry and he stayed angry. I have often wondered how history would have altered if he had lived that millennium with us."

"If you start asking what if you'll never stop," she warned, covering his hand with hers, "and eternity is a long time to torture yourself with those types of questions. I don't think I could handle that hanging over my head."

She turned her focus back to the thick lines of ink. At first glance she had taken the words for English.

"I can't read this?"

"It's Old English." Kol chuckled, lifting the leather volume. "This is the account of a twelfth century witch who was, quite frankly, mad."

" _You're_ calling someone crazy," she laughed, tilting her head to the side. "What makes her 'mad'?"

"Well," he flipped pages and traced a faded line of ink, "she writes, quite earnestly I might add, about the scourge of the sky."

"What's that supposed to be?" She bit down her grin.

"When I was growing up they were referred to in the saga's as Ormr, lohikäärme, or dreki…"

"I have no doubt you could give me a list of names from every country," she snorted, cutting him off, "probably in languages that haven't been spoken in centuries, but what would I call it?"

He laughed softly.

"You would call it a dragon."

* * *

The shape swooped low, circling the lake. A leathery wing trailed through the water. It moved closer, sharpening the impossible image, landing surprisingly light on the dock.

Scales covered every inch of the massive body from horned head to spiked tail and across both wings.

"Niklaus," Elijah watched the beast.

Beneath the throat came the distinct glow of fire, spreading up to illuminate the eyes. The great mouth yawned open, sending flames towards them in a slow motion spiral.

He felt the lick of heat a second before the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

He dove out of the path; Klaus sprang in the opposite direction.

He hit the ground hard. The flames unfurled inches above his shoulder and collided with the house. The fire burned through the siding. Wood crackled and warped. The flames spread faster than his panic and in any other situation he might have found that impressive, but a single thought occupied his mind.

He raced into the house.

Acrid smoke filled his lungs.

* * *

"Dragons?" Bonnie couldn't help but laugh.

"Mmhmm," Kol's eyes sparkled as he flipped through the pages. "She wrote of entire villages destroyed in fire and a beast nearly impossible to kill unless stabbed in the soft spot."

"Well," she shook her head, "assuming you're not pulling my leg then she's crazy."

"I would never pull your leg."

Bonnie laughed and inclined her head towards the book.

"Why'd you keep it?"

"Because, despite her psychotic leanings, she created several powerful spells," he hummed. "I've also made a habit of collecting the odd."

"Odd?" Bonnie quirked an eyebrow. One hand waved in the general direction of the stocked shelf. "How many more of those deal with the far-fetched?"

"All of them," he tilted his head. "Between every useful spell is a fantastic account about a creature of myth. Some are written like this one where the author truly believed what they wrote, and others read as a recounting of tales passed along; although those are few. I have references to kitsune and oni, griffons and unicorns, dryads, naiads, centaurs…"

"A never-ending list?"

"At least one per grimoire," Kol nodded, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Some have more. One day I might compile that information. I have nothing but time."

"Is that your eternity project?" She teased, excited over the prospect of such a book.

"No, that would be soaking up all of the knowledge in the world. Is that too high a goal?"

* * *

"Elena," he burst into the bedroom.

Serena screamed; the sound resided somewhere between terror and pain. Elena cradled her looking dazed and panicked.

Caroline spun to face him and immediately raised her shirt to her mouth as the smoke drifted in.

Klaus shoved his shoulders, pushing him further into the room so he could slam the door.

"What's going on?" Elena coughed. Serena wiggled in her arms, sweat drenched her pyjamas.

"Why is the house on fire?" Caroline moved to the door. Klaus' hands held her back. "Klaus?"

"The stairs are out of the question."

"What does that mean?" Elena moved, given Elijah space to open her window.

"It means they're gone."

Caroline ran at vampire speed, slamming drawers and flinging open the closet. By the time Elijah broke the glass and hopped onto the sloped roof she had a large duffle slung over her shoulder.

"Give her here."

Elena passed her baby to Elijah without hesitation. Then she climbed onto the roof. Caroline followed a moment later with Klaus.

The arms that scooped her up were definitely masculine.

She locked her hands around Klaus' neck, shutting her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the ground coming.

"The school's closer."

Elena nodded in what she thought was Elijah's direction, but the sudden silence told her he was already gone with Serena.

"Hold tight, love."

She tucked her head in and swallowed the urge to be sick as the world sped by in a blur that she refused to watch. When he stopped, the horrific sound of home burning was gone.

Klaus set her lightly on the entry floor.

Caroline's eyes darted between them, unsure who to question first. She decided on him.

"What just happened?"

"A dragon set Elena's house on fire…"

"A what?" Caroline's voice rose in pitch.

"Where's Elijah?" Elena spun, uninterested at the moment. She shouted his name.

Klaus caught the reply. "He's in the kitchen."

Elena ran with the pair on her heels.

"Dragon?" Caroline gripped his arm. "Did we step into Game of Thrones?"

"I know how it sounds, but…" Klaus trailed off when he stepped into the kitchen and found his daughter, Landon, Alaric and the librarian crowded around Elijah with varying degrees of wonder on their faces. Elena's sharp elbows proved to be the only thing capable of parting the assembly. "Why is everyone watching the baby have a bath? Why is she having a bath?"

Hope looked up first, but no sound left her mouth.

"I'm sorry," he heard Elijah murmur, pressed close to Elena's ear. "I didn't…"

"It's okay," her voice sounded thick with tears. She dipped and pressed a lingering kiss to her baby's head. "She's okay." Her hands took over the hold.

"The marks are fading."

Klaus circled the island as Caroline dropped the bag.

Elijah pulled the tap free and shifted to a gentle stream of water that he let trickle over the baby's belly; the girl grunted and blinked, glowing blue eyes focused solely on her mother's face.

"Her eyes," Klaus breathed. His hand curled around Hope's elbow.

"Her feet," Hope blinked, nodding to the sink.

"Can you all back up?" Elena snapped. Her throat burned from the brief smoke inhalation. "She's my baby, not a circus sideshow."

Caroline stepped in when the others moved back and peered around Elijah's side. She delicately cleared her throat.

"Elena…" Serena squealed, "… please don't take this in the 'gawking at a circus freak' way, but have you noticed her neck?"

She ground her teeth. "What are you talking about?"

Caroline took the tap from Elijah and carefully directed the water so it hit skin, but avoided the ears. She understood if they hadn't noticed; the hands and eyes were distracting, but in the folds of her neck three fine blue lines glowed, seeming to split the skin.

"She's something else," Elijah pressed a hand to Elena's back, grateful when she made no mention of how he trembled. "It appears you stand corrected brother."

"I stood corrected at the dragon," Klaus grumbled.

"Dragon?" Landon gaped, looking to a shocked Hope. "There are dragons?"

* * *

"You do have nothing but time," Bonnie glanced towards the shelf, shifting on the cushions. "I have a question."

"Okay," he turned giving her his full attention.

"This had bugged me for years since I first heard the term," her fingers danced over the plump cushion near his elbow. "Why do they call it a fainting couch?"

"There were used when doctor's made house calls, treating hysteria," he wiggled his eyebrows, a playful smirk on his lips. "The couch provided maximum comfort during procedures."

She flushed, vividly recalling the film she had watched years before with her friends.

"You're making that up," she rolled her eyes.

"I am not," he gasped, manoeuvring her so she sat comfortably in the corner. He grinned when she bent her knee for balance. "The poor 'disease' required weekly manual massage that would last for hours," he breathed against the shell of her ear, eliciting a shiver. The heady scent of desire permeated the air and drew him closer.

He couldn't resist a taste and allowed his tongue to trace her ear. He nipped with blunt teeth, mindful of her earring.

She gasped, bringing her hand to his sleeve.

"Th-that doesn't explain 'fainting'," her nails dug into his bicep.

He pulled back and met her eyes, blown wide with the lust he could smell.

"The procedure, lasting for hours as it often did, could leave women feeling faint for a time." He ran a finger over her hip in the lightest pressure that sent goosebumps spiralling across her skin. "Shall I demonstrate?"

"Will it take hours?" She bit her bottom lip.

"I should think not," he popped the button on her jeans and pulled the zipper, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of bright white lace. "I have far more skill than those charlatans."

Her head fell back with a moan, coaxed forth by the dexterous fingers massage. He took advantage of her exposed throat to lay kiss after open-mouthed kiss on her skin. His free hand slid under her shirt and up until his thumb made contact with her hard nipple.

"D-doctors did this?" She strained, attempting to roll her hips.

"Heavens no," he nipped her bottom lip. "Anything beyond clitoral massage would have been highly improper."

He pushed two fingers inside.

"Then this doesn't count as a demonstration," she moaned. He swallowed most of the sound with a kiss, muffling the whimper brought out by the pressure of his palm. Her muscles trembled, pulled taut to the edge of release fast by the shallow thrust of his fingers.

"I never claimed to be proper," he chuckled, nose skimming her throat. "My, my; you are close little witch. Has it been so long since someone touched you?"

She might have been mortified by her whimper if not for the cresting pleasure. Her walls fluttered, spasming around his fingers. When he told her to come she was surprised at her body's ability to obey, and for a long moment she slumped, only vaguely aware of the slick release coating her underwear.

She watched through lidded eyes as he cleaned first one finger then the other with his tongue.

"Divine," he hummed, "truly, darling. I would love a second taste if you don't mind."

His fingers skimmed the inch of exposed skin between jeans and top.

She should have been satisfied, satiated, but her body craved more of him, so she lifted her hips' the material dragged over her legs before being discarded on the floor with her shoes.

He knelt between her legs, but she stopped him with one hand on his collar.

"If I'm losing clothes then so are you," she tugged.

Kol chuckled, but leaned back to pull off his shirt.

"As you wish."

* * *

The Boarding School kitchen had long since descended into the chaos that only half a dozen overlapping voices and a screaming baby could achieve.

Klaus had leapt off the topic of dragons and fire in favour of grilling his teenage daughter on her reasons for being out in the middle of the night.

Caroline seemed torn between the tragedy at her best friend's house, her wandering students and the vandalism in the library. She fired question after question before anyone could finish with an answer. Not that anyone would have heard anyway.

Hope kept trying to explain what had happened with interjections from Landon.

Dorian examined the dagger and talked about something that drowned under the other voices.

Alaric's attention split down the middle somewhere between dragons and babies with glowing eyes.

Elena bounced on the balls of her feet. She longed to scream at them all to shut up, but Serena hated the noise, and she refused to add to it. She felt her adrenaline die; with its departure her heart faltered.

"My house is on fire," she breathed.

"Yes," Elijah nodded, reaching a hand to brush sweat damp hair behind her ear.

"A dragon set my house on fire," she cradled Serena's head. Tears shimmered in her eyes when she thought of the last of her family heirlooms. All of her pictures had been in the lake house; insurance would let her rebuild without touching on her savings, but it wouldn't replace her memories. At least every picture of Serena had been backed up.

Everyone's arguing voices faded as Elijah folded both of them into the circle of his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a shaking breath. A faint aroma of smoke clung to him, but the overwhelming feeling of security dwarfed the reminder.

"I used to be so much better at this." Serena quieted in her arms. "Compartmentalizing."

"You don't need to," his hand smoothed through her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

With a jolt she realized that the other voices had not just faded they had disappeared. When she turned her head, she found everyone watching them.

"Are we done shouting?" She straightened up and swiped at her eyes. Her fingers smoothed wide circles over Serena's purple sweater.

Before anybody could answer her, a roar sounded from outside.

Elijah stiffened.

Klaus grabbed Hope and Landon when they made for the window behind Caroline and Alaric who pushed in next to Dorian.

Elena wasn't sure what to make of the sight. The dragon, something she thought she would never see nor say, shrank; it's wings and body folded in until all that remained was a woman with dark skin peeking out beneath a soot stained gown.

She appeared, for all intents and purposes, human. But then again, so did everyone in the room.

Her eyes smouldered with live fire, wrecking her camouflage.

It/She kept a fixed gaze on the dagger in Dorian's hand as the sun rose behind her back. It's/Her mouth gaped.

Hope pulled free and ran towards the pantry. She returned seconds later with a box of salt and a tin of tea. She muttered a spell as she drew a circle around the tea; a wall of fire spread high three feet beyond the window.

From upstairs came the distant sound of screaming. Downstairs cried echoed.

"Ric, sound off for a lockdown and be ready to evacuate. Nobody leaves the school except through the tunnels." Caroline rocked back on her heels, jumping into the roll of problem solving headmistress. The bark of orders reminded Elena of the Miss Mystic Falls float and Matt's crushed arm. "Hope, how long will that spell last?"

"Twenty minutes… if we're lucky." Her eyes flickered to the crude protection spell.

"Twenty minutes," she muttered, eyes flickering between the Original brothers. "Either of you know how to slay a dragon?"

"Until a few hours ago we were unaware of their existence," Klaus shook his head.

"Naturally," she sighed. "Ric, go, take Hope and Landon. Dorian hit the books and if you haven't found anything in fifteen minutes evacuate. Elena, take the baby and get the hell out of here." Her voice grew sharp when nobody appeared to listen, barking in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Move!" Caroline grabbed Klaus' sleeve when everyone else hurried to listen. A sharp look kept Elijah in the room. "Do either of you have any ideas?"

"I'd offer to rip out the beast's heart, but I don't think I'll get close enough." Klaus looked out the window where said beast was shifting again.

"A death curse might do the trick," Elijah frowned. He felt overcome with the sudden sense that his heart resided outside his body and was racing rapidly along the hall.

"We don't keep black magic on campus, and even if we had it there's not a witch strong enough to use one without Bonnie." Caroline shook her head.

At the library door Alaric parted ways with Elena after asking if she remembered the way; he left her with the teens and moved to the office.

Elena adjusted her hold. Her eyes snapped to Hope as she moved for the stairs.

"That's not the right way," she cocked an eyebrow.

"I have an idea," Hope called back, taking off at the same moment Alaric came over the loud-speaker. "I won't be long."

Landon shrugged apologetically and followed before Elena could stop either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking there is one more chapter that makes up Part 2 of the story (Originally chapter 2). Then I move into typing the second notebook.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own TVD or TO or LEGACIES.

"Okay," Bonnie sighed, melting into the curve of his slick chest, "I guess I get it now." She suspected the twist of their limbs, tangled together on the narrow couch, was the only thing keeping her from thumping on the stone floor.

"Are you sure?" Pale fingers drew patterns across her dark stomach, glowing against the rich colour. "I'd be happy to demonstrate again. I don't know that you're faint enough if you can still articulate your thoughts."

"I lack the strength to move, and I'm pretty sure I'm molded to you." She rolled her neck and exaggerated a groan.

She felt him smile against her throat. Her fingers traced the contours of his hand, catching first at his ring and again at his watch band.

"Bonnie?" He kissed her shoulder.

"Hmm?" She moved back up and played with his ring.

"What are you thinking about?"

The touch of his hand became unbearably tender, drawing a million and one thoughts to the forefront of her mind. Each weighed heavier than the last. Qetsiyah's spell swirled around her mind, mingling with Elena and the baby and him.

"Topics too heavy for the moment," her eyes flicked to the shelf and then down, mapping the two inches of space between her and the sudden drop. "You know, I do have a little extra space here."

"What's your point?" He hugged her closer.

"Wow," she giggled, banishing the mess in her mind as she rolled in his arms. "I never would have pegged you for a cuddler."

"Don't tell anybody," his hands explored the hollow spaces on her back. "I have a reputation to maintain."

He kissed a line along her cheek.

"So," she chewed her bottom lip, "is this going to be a one-time thing?"

He stiffened for a moment before pushing up on one elbow; an unreadable expression entered his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" His hand stilled on her spine.

"Is that what you want?" She countered. After his last relationship she couldn't imagine him being in a great rush to leap into another one with a witch, not that she wanted one either. With everything she knew to be on the immediate horizon she knew it wouldn't be fair to either of them.

She also didn't want a one off.

"I asked you first," he lifted his hand, brushing her bangs aside.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek.

"No," she whispered, breath cool against his jaw.

"Good," he grinned, slow and bright, "once could never be enough with you, darling."

"Does that line work a lot?" She rolled her eyes.

"I've never tried it before." His brows drew together, eyes darting towards the insistent buzz of his phone. The vibration caused his jacket to sway where it hung off the table.

"You gonna get that?" She glanced over her shoulder.

"Is so far away," he groaned.

"It could be Davina calling to…"

"Scream?" He smirked, cutting her off.

"Or, heaven forbid, give us the spell," she gasped.

"It's still far," he sighed.

She held out a hand. His phone flew across the space and settled in her palm. "Now are you going to answer, or is it still too far?"

He checked the caller ID and answered, putting the call on speaker. "Nik?"

 _"What do you know about dragons?"_ Elijah's voice chimed in a second later.

_"Specifically how to kill one?"_

* * *

"What is that supposed to mean?" Caroline muttered, snatching two knives from the block so fast they were a silver streak. "Stab it in the soft spot? How are we supposed to find the soft spot?"

She heard a distinct rustle from the phone Klaus had put on speaker so they wouldn't have to strain: turning pages and shifting fabric.

 _"I've told you everything I know,"_ the flipping of pages paused, _"even though I'm convinced this is all an ill-timed practical joke."_

"You think I would joke about this?" Caroline sapped an arm towards the window, narrowly avoiding Klaus' arm.

_"I think you've never been the kill first, ask questions later sort."_

She stabbed the counter, sinking the blade four inches into the wood. Then she snatched up Klaus' phone and flipped it to video, turning the camera around when Bonnie's face filled the screen.

The mirror of what appeared on Kol's screen filled with fire. It lasted for several long seconds. Then the source cut off and the remnants disappeared, leaving behind smouldering grass and a shower of sparks. Through the wavering smoke appeared a horned head and the outline of a wing.

 _"Holy shit!"_ Bonnie clapped a hand to her mouth. Kol's slack face appeared over her shoulder.

Caroline pointed as she flipped the camera around.

"That thing nearly burnt me to a crisp at Elena's - I don't even want to think about if she'd been there alone…"

"She's hardly been alone in weeks," Klaus scoffed.

"Not now, Niklaus."

"Shut up!" Caroline glared. "Then it nearly burned down a school full of sleeping children, and would have without Hope. Now give me something useful because I'm gonna kill it, skin it and make a new pair of boots."

_"A-all I've got is soft spot. It will be a thinner skin than the rest of the body."_

"How do you propose we get close enough to find it?" Elijah eyed the wall of flame. There was no conceivable way to know whether dragon fire could kill them. At the very least they would spend several hours incapacitated and useless.

"EVACUATE THE BUILDING. ALL STUDENTS AND STAFF EVACUATE."

 _"_ What are the odds the students will think this is a drill?"

Caroline rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. "At least fifteen dorm rooms look out this way."

* * *

Elena slipped between students in pyjama's and various stages of bed head, teenage boys yanked on t-shirts and girls hopped along, attempting to put on shoes.

"Elena!"

She spun left to where Josie and Lizzie elbowed their way towards her. Well, Lizzie elbowed; Josie trailed behind, yawning and scrubbing a pillow creased cheek.

"What are you doing here?" Lizzie clung to Josie's hand.

"Do you know what's going on?" Josie wrinkled her nose. "Do you smell smoke?"

"Yes, I know what's going on, and you two need to evacuate with the rest of the school." She adjusted Serena, pressing her tight to her breast.

"You're not evacuating," Lizzie crossed her arms. Her face hardened in the way Caroline's did when she felt particularly stubborn; all tight lips and narrow eyes.

"I will be in a few minutes." Elena met her hard stare. She knew how to deal with Caroline, and Lizzie lacked the stiff backbone of her mother; it was there, she hadn't grown into it yet. "Which room is Hope's?"

"The third one on the left," Josie yawned, tugging on her sister's arm. "Come on."

"But we don't know what's going on," she protested.

"You'll find out later," Elena rolled her eyes. She turned down the hall as Josie succeeded in tugging her away; she caught a glimpse of them as she stepped into the bedroom.

Books and photographs covered the shelves where Hope stood, an anthology balanced precariously on one arm for her hand to flip through.

"Okay," she nodded slowly, "there's an actual, honest, fire breathing dragon outside and the school is evacuating, but you're brushing up on Shakespeare." She shook her head suddenly and sighed. "Mikaelsons."

"It's a spell book," Hope explained, glancing up before returning to the frantic flip of pages, "unsanctioned black magic."

"I should probably be more surprised," Elena crossed the room, stopping next to Landon. "Did you know about this?"

He shook his head.

"What spell are you looking for?" Elena peered at the book when Hope came to a stop. An upside down skull yawned at her.

"This one," she breathed. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the thick paper from the binding.

"That's a…" Elena's eyes widened. "Hope; this is not your responsibility."

"I have to do something," she clamped down on her shaking lip. "Dad and Uncle Elijah are still down there, and they're not going to leave."

"All you have to do is get out," she frowned.

"The last time I ran I lost my mom." Moisture made her eyes impossibly blue.

"Hope, that was not your fault," she reached for her hand and took the spell. The page crumpled between her fingers. "You're fifteen years old, and, Mikaelson or not, you shouldn't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. You're still a kid, so go be a kid. Evacuate with Landon and let the adults handle this."

"But the spell needs to be cast, and…"

"And you don't have to do it," Elena folded the spell, and shuffled Serena into the crook of Hope's arm. "Now, I want you to take Landon, and take my baby, and evacuate. And while you're doing that, cross your fingers and hope a traveller with doppelgänger blood is strong enough."

She walked with them down the stairs, parting ways at the base with a quick kiss to Serena's head and a squeeze of Hope's shoulder.

She spared a moment to watch them head towards the tunnels before slipping into the library.

"Dorian," she called, grabbing his attention. Her eyes met his when he looked up from his book. "I need a knife," she pointed to the dagger on the table. "That one will do."

"Why do you need a knife?" He made no move to stop her from taking it.

"Because I'm about to do something colossally stupid, and if I go in the kitchen there are three people who will stop me," she carried it carefully as she raced out. "Thanks."

Without a baby in her arms she did what she hadn't in months and sprinted, relying on luck to make it past the kitchen doors without vampiric interference. In her head she repeated everything Bonnie had tried to drill into her. The things she had let slide partly because she had been lost in her own head and partly because she didn't want to think about the possibilities; anything a witch could do she could do by virtue of her blood.

She slammed the door behind her, purchasing a few seconds of time. The blade sliced through her palm. Crimson blood ran in a stream down her arm, dripping from the dagger and her palm.

She heard the first shout when she unfolded the spell.

The dragon circled towards her, but Hope's boundary kept all but the heat from licking her skin.

Power coursed through her, spiralling towards the dragon.

"Tenebris anima vestra contundito mortem et conteret spiritum. Frange vitam colite corde ut sub terra esse, ad tenebras usque in sempiternum."

The energy broke. Darkness washed over her.

When she came to, Elijah held her in his arms. Her eyes flicked lazily toward the vague shapes a few feet away. She had to blink a few times before the crouched forms of Klaus and Caroline came into focus.

Through the ringing in her ears she heard his voice and rolled her eyes up then down, frowning at the bloody appendage uncomprehendingly. Her throat and stomach revolted, but he forced the blood down. With each swallow her head cleared until she found the strength to push him away.

"Are you going to tell me how stupid that was?" She grimaced at the feel of tacky blood on her wrist and in her mouth. "That I'm a reckless idiot?"

"Do you need more blood? I think you have me confused with a Salvatore." He arched an eyebrow, smiling when his comment drew a small laugh. "That was reckless though; you should have told me."

"How would you have helped?" She rolled her eyes.

"I could have been here to catch you and saved the egregious head wound."

She touched her hand to the back of her head and came back with still warm blood. She blinked at it, rubbing her fingers together.

"So the spell's not the thing that hurt me?" She straightened her spine. "Did I at least slay the dragon?"

"Maybe if you had shined your armour first," Klaus called.

Elena scrambled to her feet, grasping the knife as she stood.

The dragon, in human form, pushed up onto it's/her elbows and scurried backwards awkwardly. Fear and anger transformed it's/her features and if not for the faint glow in it's/her throat someone might have mistaken it/her for a human.

"I knew I forgot something," she tried to snap her fingers but the blood made them stick. She handed the dagger to Caroline. "Sorry, I kinda stole this."

Dark eyes locked on the blade.

A soot covered hand reached up. The rage turned demanding and the sound it/she made could only be described as a pleading whine.

"You want this?" Caroline held up the dagger, still coated in a thin line of Elena's blood. The dragon/woman on the ground wiggled it's/her fingers but voiced no words; she wasn't sure that it/she could. "Why?"

It/She didn't answer, but the brows lowered. The spell had weakened it/her because the moment fire gleamed in her eyes Caroline had the time to strike, sinking the blade into her glowing throat.

"Soft spot," she pulled it free, glancing over her shoulder. "I think I'll skip the boots."

* * *

Caroline collapsed on the sofa, heedless of the mud up her calves and the dirt beneath her just manicured nails. The furniture had survived blood spills and two girls who had made it their personal mission to drop anything and everything that could stain.

The office couch could handle a little dirt.

"Are you as exhausted as I am?" She pushed her hands through her hair, streaking mud through the blonde curls.

"Physically, no," Klaus' voice rumbled over her head.

Cushions pushed into her stomach under his arm's weight on the back of the couch. She cracked one eye open, peering up through mascara clumped lashes.

"Mentally?" She crossed her arms low over her stomach.

"I just buried a dragon's body near a mass grave of witches after watching you and Elena play knights-in-shining-armour," he reached down, wiping away a smudge above her eyebrow. "It's going to take some time to wrap my mind around that. And then there is her child to contend with."

"It's been a wild morning." The left side of her mouth quirked up.

"And it's only ten," he mirrored her expression.

She groaned, kicking at the armrest. A million things loomed. The rumours needed to be stopped. Explanations, that she didn't have, needed to be given. And four new teachers had to be hired to replace the ones who quit after Alaric confirmed, to the staff, that there had actually been a dragon ready to burn them all to a crisp.

A million things to do before her ten o'clock flight out of JFK.

"I'm sure Alaric can handle the running of the school while you catch your breath, sweetheart." He cocked his head, listening to the distant sound of whispering children and teenagers attempting to study. "Can I ask you something?"

"Saying no has never stopped you," she shrugged.

"On the contrary," he waved a finger, "it's stopped me many times where you're concerned."

"Not when it comes to questions." Caroline rolled her eyes without opening them. "What is it?"

"Were you really going to run?"

Her eyes snapped open as the breath stilled in her lungs. Slowly she sat up and swung her legs, resting her heels on the floor, but that was as close as she got to standing up, suddenly fascinated by her filthy hands; she wasn't certain how long she stared before her moved.

"Caroline," Klaus came around and sat, taking her cool hand between his, "when I first found out about Hayley's pregnancy from witches who wanted to blackmail me I told them to kill her and the baby - don't tell Hope."

She inhaled through the thickness in her throat. There would be zero judgement from him. She knew that, but knowing didn't make voicing her thoughts and airing her deepest shame any easier.

"I was terrified," she began, clinging to him. "They weren't… I wasn't… they grew inside of me. I felt them move, and when they were born… I knew they weren't mine, but they…" she paused to take a shaking breath. Every word came out a little easier. "They felt like mine, and I didn't think that they should because I was just the surrogate. But I had all of these feelings that I never thought I'd feel."

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She swiped at them, feeling his attentive gaze as she smudged mascara along her temple.

"I was supposed to be building a life for myself, and there I was having my heart stolen by two newborns, who weren't even mine, with clocks ticking ominously over their heads," she sniffed and swallowed, raising her eyes. "So, yeah, I was ready to run and maybe even flip the switch so I wouldn't go back."

He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. "Ticking clock?"

"They're Gemini twins," she breathed, "not just siphons."

"Gemini," he breathed, frowning, "isn't that the coven that…" his eyes widened, flooding with horror.

Caroline nodded.

"When they turn twenty-two they have to merge. That's why I was in Brazil; it was another dead end lead that got my best friend hurt."

"Caroline…"

"I know, I know," she huffed. "You and Elena have both told me that it's not my fault."

"It's not," he slid an arm around her shaking shoulders, "but that's not what I was going to say."

Her head came to rest on his chest. The soothing motion of his hand rubbing circles on her arm threatened to lull her into sleep, but she had too much to do. "I'm supposed to be on the red eye tonight: Paris."

"I happen to have contacts across the world," he murmured into her hair, "including Paris. Though it's not quite how I imagined showing you the city."

"Klaus," she straightened, "I… you…"

"I happen to owe you a lot, love." He tucked a curl behind her ear. "You saved my daughter, Caroline. Let me help you save yours."

The sudden touch of her lips on his sent a shock wave through his entire body. It took a second for his reflexes to respond, but his hands came up to cradle her face. The gentle kiss sand through his veins.

When she pulled back he felt an echo of the pressure and stared a beat too long at her parted lips.

"Is that a yes then?"

Somehow he knew her answering nod encompassed more than one question.

* * *

She sat cross-legged on the floor and towel dried her hair. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Serena. Her swaddled daughter napped in the makeshift bassinet created from Caroline's favourite arm chair.

The buzz of energy created by two hundred thirty-seven students stopped at the door, creating the illusion that the bedroom resided apart from the rest of the school.

It shouldn't have surprised her.

The attic bedroom, redecorated to Caroline's taste over the years, had once been Stefan's. She knew the knick in every rafter and the angle of the vaulted ceiling. She knew where to put her feet for silence and which floor boards pried up; the artifacts had been cleared out in favour of the good snacks that would never survive in a kitchen open to hungry teenage werewolves.

The large room took up the entire attic, and between the main room and the bathroom it covered the original top of the house before the added expansion. The addition of a small kitchen would have turned the space into a gorgeous studio apartment.

And it had always felt a part from the rest of the house; given her current situation that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Her eyes flickered to the door, widening at the sight of her brother. He ascended the short flight of stairs ahead of Elijah; the important men in her life wore tight expressions that sank her heart until it resided somewhere around her folded legs.

The unfamiliar bassinet in Elijah's hands did not help.

"You've come bearing bad news."

She dropped the damp towel on her thigh.

Jeremy put down a shopping bag filled to the top with baby supplies, confirming her suspicion without words.

"We're you going to mention the fire?" He moved his niece into her new bed when Elijah sat it on the carpet.

"Once I knew the extent of the damage," she twisted her fingers in the oversized shirt; it was one of the few things Caroline managed to pack. "Who told you?"

"Matt called when the police couldn't find you and there was no sign of your remains in the raging inferno." He dropped into an armchair.

"Is it that bad?" She pulled herself onto the couch, looking from Jeremy to Elijah.

"Several deputies were theorizing arson and tossing around your names as suspects," Elijah murmured, joining her on the couch. "I calmly explained to Mr. Donovan the situation."

"And did Matt believe you?"

"Not until he showed us the footage," Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Did you really kill a dragon?"

"Technically I weakened it," she glanced to Elijah. "Caroline killed it."

Without thought she reached for Elijah, unaware of the action until his fingers warmed in the palm of his hand. Jeremy made no comment, but then, of all the Originals, her brother liked Elijah best; being the only one who actively tried to help her and not kill her went a long way to winning Jeremy's approval.

Or maybe, she wasn't as skilled at hiding her emotions as she once thought.

He always had known where to find her journal.

"Is there anything left?" She addressed them both. Elijah shook his head; Jeremy elaborated.

"The fire spread and hit the parked cars. From there it reached the gas tanks, caused a pretty impressive explosion and burned down the garage plus five feet of forest." His voice threatened to crack and he cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder to Serena's peaceful face. "How'd you get out? I assume you were inside."

"Two vampires, a hybrid and a broken window," she exhaled, taking comfort in the gentle squeeze of Elijah's hand. "I don't think I realized what was happening until after we re-hydrated Serena."

"R-re-hydrated Serena?" His head tilted to the left, eyes clouding over with confusion.

"I have no explanation at the moment," she sank into the couch cushions, taking a deep breath as her lashes dropped to kiss her cheekbones. "She glows in water: eyes, hands, feet… and neck."

She felt Elijah nod and knew Jeremy's eyes had looked to him for confirmation. Several moments passed filled only by the coos and grunts of her sleeping baby.

It was Jeremy's voice that broke the silence.

"What are you going to do?"

"About my baby or my house?" Thinking about the future of either made her head spin. "Why don't we start with the house since you need a place to live."

She groaned, opening her eyes to stare at the rafters. "A fire has made me homeless… again."

"At least you didn't set it this time."

"So glad we can joke about that now," she rolled her eyes. "What am I gonna do? I've got to file insurance claims, and get a new car, and replace everything and what do you mean cars?"

"What?" Jeremy's brows lowered.

"Hit the parked cars?" She quoted.

"Your car, my car and Niklaus' SUV," Elijah smoothed a circle over her palm.

"Please tell me your insurance covers fire."

"I'm not worried about the insurance or the car, Elena," he offered her a smile. "You shouldn't be either. And if any insurance brokers give you trouble I will be happy to compel them."

Jeremy leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "I'd offer you my spare room, but…"

"You don't have a spare room," she finished. "You might want to get a bigger place."

"For the next time your house burns to the ground?" He quipped.

"You're welcome to stay at the mansion, Elena."

The sincerity of Elijah's offer was touching and the thought of being close to him, not that he'd ever been far, appealed to her. But the idea of proximity to Klaus and Kol, as well as the site of Esther's spell and her worst betrayal, turned her stomach.

"That's sweet, but I…" her muscles coiled beneath the weight of chaffing rope. She saw the scene in vivid colour: Klaus, needles, blood. "There are a lot of bad memories of that place that I'd love to not relive."

"That's understandable," he nodded.

"Can I make an offer?" Caroline appeared behind Jeremy's chair, a tight smile in place.

Elena nodded with narrow eyes. A lifetime of friendship had taught her to be suspicious of that smile.

"Stay here," she held out her arms. "There's plenty of room. It's separate from the school, but not so far away that you're not a hermit in complete silence."

"This is your room, Care."

"I'm hardly ever here, and I'm heading out tonight for clandestine meetings with more witches," she shrugged off the protest. "If your still here when I come back then I can just sleep in another room. And if your next words are about a crying baby, know that a spell can soundproof things. I would only ask for one 'itty-bitty' favour in return." She clapped her hands together, smiling wide.

"Here it comes," Elena rolled her eyes, "taking advantage of the homeless new mom. What is it?"

"I need a biology and chemistry teacher," Caroline bit her bottom lip. "Two and a half hours a day?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This officially ends the first notebook of writing and what was meant to be chapter two. 19647 words.


	11. Chapter 11

"Alright, you've got everything?" Elena wrung her red hands together.

Hope ran her hand along the rail of the portable crib and nodded to the large, arguably enormous, bag. The supplies would have lasted a week.

"You gave me the key for upstairs in case I need anything else," she patted her pocket, "but I think you've brought plenty down."

A deep purple skirt flared and swayed around her knees as she half turned to smooth a hand through Serena's tousled curls. The dark hair had fallen out months ago, paving the way for ginger locks; inherited from granny Flemming according to the old photograph Alaric located in a dust covered box that once belonged to Isobel.

"You remember how to warm the milk?" Elijah bounced the baby gently.

"Put the bottle in a lukewarm bowl of water for a couple of minutes and test is on my wrist," Hope sighed, just resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Caroline had gotten Elijah to agree to covering the history classes until she could find a replacement, so when he and Elena were otherwise occupied she stepped in for the hour; it saved Elena needing to locate an outside sitter, and Hope loved staying with Serena. "I've watched her before."

"Never overnight though," Elena's fingers fluttered around her neck.

Serena curled a hand around Elijah's purple tie and grinned at the feel of the material.

"You're not gonna be far away, and then you'll be right upstairs," Hope pointed out.

"What if she starts drying out?" Her eyes widened.

"Then she'll take a bath. You gave her one this morning, right?"

Two dips in the water a day, every twelve hours or so, kept Serena from developing so much as a scaly patch of skin.

Elena nodded.

"She'll be fine." Hope smiled.

"You have our numbers?" Elijah shifted.

"And the school phone," Hope nodded.

"Okay, so you're all set," he nodded, turning to address Elena. "We can go and she'll be fine."

"I just need one more thing before you go," Hope held out her hands.

"Right," Elena nodded, chewing her bottom lip. "Bye-bye, baby girl," she kissed Serena's cheek and saw Elijah do the same on her other side.

"You be good for Hope, sweetheart; we'll be back before you know it," he kissed the top of her head, but made no move to hand her over.

"Uncle Elijah," Hope tilted her head, nose wrinkling around a quiet laugh.

* * *

Her foot jiggled, bouncing up and down with nervous energy and causing the zipper on her boot to hit her leg every few seconds.

He watched her eyes flick between the cockpit and the windows from beneath his lashes, certain she would have compelled the pilot to fly faster if she could have. After a moment he reached out, laying a hand on her knee.

"Would telling you to relax have any effect?"

A single shoulder rose in a shrug.

"It might make me smack you." She pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder. "Maybe coffee…"

"Because more energy is what you need," he chuckled.

"What I need is for this plane to land," she drummed her fingers on the armrest. The most recent dead end unnerved her. "How did you come up with this coven anyway?"

"Hope gave me the idea," the corner of his mouth quirked up. "When I went into her room to surprise her on her birthday there were half a dozen sketches on the nightstand with notes."

"What was she sketching?" Caroline tilted her head.

"The creatures that were coming after the knife; from before they moved it out of the school." He fingered the pages of his book. "She said she had been cataloguing them. You remember the gargoyle and the dragon."

"It's hard to forget a creature who gave my daughter grey scale, and if I ever forget about slaying a dragon I want you to take me and get my head examined." She rolled her eyes. "What else?"

"Well, there was a wolpertinger, strange looking thing," his eyes narrowed. "Had the head of a rabbit, body of a squirrel, wings, antlers and fangs. Apparently it was rather docile until it saw the knife. Then there was the Tikoloshe, from Zulu mythology."

"Evil, dwarf-like water sprite," Caroline nodded, "caused mischief around the school and made anyone it touched sick."

"There was the goblin that took a chunk out of a few townsfolk before Jeremy Gilbert put an arrow in it's hat."

Caroline nodded, remembering how they had needed to dry out the cap to kill it. There were too many monsters in her head to keep them straight though.

"What was the last one?"

"The one that gave me the idea," he smirked. "The Arachne." It had drained the life from one of the high school girls. "How is Matt explaining all of this?"

"Tried and true excuse," she shrugged, eyes dancing with a hint of mirth: "animal attacks."

"It has worked in the past." He chuckled. "The Arachne comes from Greek mythology. She was a woman who challenged Athena and lost. The goddess turned her into a spider as punishment."

"I don't see the connection to the twins."

"Hope had a mythology textbook. Across from the Arachne was a note on Castor and Pollux: the original gemini twins." He tapped his book. "In mythology Pollux was the son of Zeus and Castor or a mortal. When his brother died Pollux begged his father to give him immortality, so Zeus joined them together in the constellation Gemini."

"Yeah, but that's a myth," she caught a nail under his leather bracelet.

"So were dragons," he turned his hand over so they were palm to palm.

"I think knowing more about the coven might help, but all we ever found out about the Gemini was that it was there duty to keep the Travellers from breaking their curse. I wouldn't be surprised if they put it there in the first place."

"If that's the case, could it be possible that the Travellers cursed the Gemini?"

"Like… in retaliation?" She frowned.

"The gemini could have cursed them, and they retaliated by placing a curse meant to weaken the coven on their leaders."

"That would make this curse over 2000 years old, and curses like that need to be bound to something that can last." She tipped her head back, listening to the steady thrum of the engines.

"Doppelgänger?" He rubbed her knuckles.

"Could you imagine the look on Elena's face if I went to her and said 'you're the key to breaking another ancient curse'?" She snorted.

"No, but I can hear her scream," he chuckled. "This coven is one of the oldest in Greece, maybe they'll know nothing, or perhaps we'll get lucky."

* * *

Bonnie flipped the knife, watching as it turned end over end before landing in her palm at the hilt.

"That's a quick way to lose a finger." Kol flipped the page of his book, skimming words.

"You're right here, and you've got killer reflexes," she twirled it. An otherworldly blue light glinted off the blade. "Did you find anything yet?"

"I don't need research to figure that one out, love," he nodded to the jar. It sat a small distance away on the wax coated shelf, acting as a prison for the latest creature that was little more than an insubstantial ball of light. He thought it looked more like fog, constantly pulsing and folding in on itself.

"It doesn't look malevolent," she frowned. The knife clattered against the floor.

"Neither does Nik."

"Depends on the day," she rolled her eyes and shifted closer. Kol moved his arm back, circling around her waist. A perfectly good couch sat not ten feet away, beckoning her with soft cushions, but he swore the floor gave more room to spread out the half dozen grimoires and folklore collections.

"So far nothing on how to kill a wil'o the wisp," he tilted the page so she could see the engraving. Blue light washed over the page.

"Do we have to kill it?" She settled into his side, enjoying the feeling of his arm around her and his fingers drawing random patterns on the soft skin on her inner elbow. "The whole point of the trap was to entrap. They only come one at a time."

"This whole situation has peaked my interest," he admitted, eyes alight with curiosity. "I want to know where all of these creatures are coming from. I want to know why they all desire that knife. I want to know how I went a thousand years without ever encountering one."

He moved his book to the floor, replacing the grimoire with Bonnie, lifting her bodily so she sat sideways in his lap. His right arm curled around her waist, left hand raising to tuck a curl behind her ear.

"I can't exactly interrogate a wisp," he dragged his knuckles along her jaw.

"Is there anything you don't want to know?" She looped her arms around his neck and smoothed her fingers through his hair, straightening the mess he had made while reading.

"No," he held her throat, gently stroking her collarbone. "I want to know everything, including whatever you've been hiding from me."

"I'm not hiding anything," she denied, suspecting her heart had skipped a beat.

"I know you're holding back, darling," he slid his hand up, tapping a long finger against her temple. "Something has been weighing on your mind."

"I'm entitled to a few secrets," she teased, smile not quite reaching her eyes. She mused over the date, knowing D-day approached; it was innocuously marked on her calendar. With every passing day she put it off, and it got a little harder to broach the topic.

She could see it in his eyes, the words he couldn't say yet, and knew reality would set in soon. Eventually she had to tell him.

Her head settled into the hollow space between his shoulder and neck.

"Not yet."

He hesitated a beat before running his hand up and down her spine with a murmured 'fine'.

"So what did you find?" She glanced at the Gaelic, written in flowing cursive.

"It's a ghost light seen by travellers," he watched the jar. "They're often seen at dusk or night before leading people astray. The witch claims one led her brother over the side of a cliff."

"Ever seen in the day?" She lifted her head.

"Not according to these." He twisted her hair around his finger.

"Maybe they can't survive in the day," she suggested. "There's an hour or so of sunlight left, and it's not like it can escape from the jar."

* * *

"Apparently I'm getting a roommate tonight." Landon leaned back on his hands.

"I bet that's my dad's doing," Hope rolled her eyes and plopped Serena on the carpet, upsetting a handful of stacking cups. "He probably found out about the nights I slept in here and wants to deter it."

"All we did was sleep," he sputtered. "He knows that right."

"If he didn't I'd have a very dead boyfriend." She turned over the biggest cup, stacking the second on top.

"Seriously?"

"Nah," she grinned. Serena stacked the cups slowly. "He'd be less subtle about bringing in roommates though."

She eyed the second bed, bare of the character Landon had added to his.

"Do you know who it is yet?"

"No idea," he shook his head, moving forward to accept the cup Serena face him: "thank you. It's got to be a witch though, right?"

"I would think so. New vampires room with vampires, or alone, and wolves can be volatile." A timer went off in her pocket. She puled out the school phone and checked the time. "Can you watch her a few minutes while I get her bottle?"

"Yeah."

"Be good," she kissed Serena's cheek. "Keep Landon out of trouble."

"I don't get into trouble." He picked the baby up under her arms and perched her on her feet. "Do I Serena?"

She hummed and shoved three fingers in her mouth, hardly noticing when Hope left.

"You know," he bounced her gently, "you and I have something in common. Nobody knows what I am either. Of course, I don't have glowing eyes when I'm in water."

Her eyes lit up, glowing bright and casting shadows across her button nose.

"Just like that," he nodded. She had begun reacting to the word and presence of water a few weeks earlier, so he wasn't overly concerned. "Those are your glowing eyes," he pulled her close and gently tapped her cheek.

A shadow loomed over them.

"That was fast," he glanced up, expecting Hope. Instead he found six feet of rippling muscle carrying an armful of cloth, each article resembled the last in some way and bore the school's insignia.

"Didn't know I was being timed," came the gruff reply, muffled by the clothes.

"Sorry," he got to his feet. "I thought you were someone else. You must be my new roommate." He held Serena to his chest, noticing her eyes had stopped glowing a second before she hid in his neck. "I'm…"

He trailed off, eyes going round when the other boy put down his uniforms and turned. He knew those dark brown eyes, and how his entire being lit up when he smiled. The last time he looked in those eyes he hadn't had to look up.

"Raf?" He felt a smile threaten, beckoned by the bubble of excitement in his heart.

"Landon?" His mouth fell open. The last time they had seen each other was nearly a year ago when they were both fostered in the same family. Rafael had begged to go with him when the system bumped him to Mystic Falls just like he had begged to stay.

"What are you doing here?" Serena responded to the emotion in his voice, peeking out to find the cause of his smile.

"What am I doing here?" Raf pointed to himself. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first," Landon smiled, tilting his head.

Rafael froze, hesitant, and at first he didn't know what. Then he swallowed and spoke. "I'm a werewolf."

"And you're nervous about that?" He frowned, eyes narrowing.

"Aren't you?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe if it was a full moon, or if you were anything like Jed, or a stereotypical jock, but you're still you right?"

"Still me," he nodded.

"Was it an accident?" At Rafael's confused look he went on. "My girlfriend's a werewolf; she told me you have to t… take a human life to trigger the curse. So… accident?"

The last of Rafael's happiness bled from his eyes as he nodded.

"Okay," Landon crouched and scooped up a purple cup, offering it to the baby.

"You're not gonna ask?"

"You'll tell me when you're ready if you want to," he shrugged.

"My girlfriend, in a car accident," Rafael stared at the baby's red curls, "the roads were wet and I took the turn too fast." His voice sounded gruff with unshed tears.

Landon blinked, digesting the information. He offered up the only thing he could.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm here now if you want to talk more about it. And I'd offer to let you hold the baby, because the world seems so much brighter that way, but her mom might kill me if I let someone she doesn't know hold her."

"That's fine," his brow wrinkled. "Why are you here Landon? What have you been doing?"

"I go to the school, and, before you can ask, nobody knows what I am," he grimaced. "We're working on figuring that out."

"And _what_ have you been doing?"

"What are you getting at?" Landon frowned at the probing.

"Bro," he gave a pointed look to his arms.

Landon clued in as Hope hurried in the room, purple receiving blanket draped across her left shoulder.

"Sorry that took so long," she took the baby and offered the warmed bottle. "I got bombarded with texts. Who are you?"

"Hope Mikaelson, meet Rafael Waith." Landon introduced. "Raf, this is my girlfriend Hope."

"Rafael?" Hope angled the bottle. "Your friend from before Mystic Falls?"

"Yup," Landon noted the way Rafael's eyes darted from Hope to the baby and up to him. "No," he pointed.

"She's not yours?" Rafael relaxed.

"Oh no," Hope looked down. "I'm babysitting. Serena's our science teacher's daughter; she's out on a date."

"So, how'd you get the babysitting gig?"

"The date's with my uncle," she balanced the bottle against her shoulder, where Serena did a decent job of holding it, and reached for the phone in her pocket to pull up a picture for the girl to look at. "He's practically her dad."

"Practically?" Rafael sat on his bed.

"He's a vampire, and vampires can't have kids." Hope sat and tapped the phone with her thumb. "Who's that? Is that dada?"

"Hope has made it her mission to make that her first word," Landon sat, "in secret."

"Dada, dada," she looked up. "I want to see the look on his face because he'll be wearing it for a long time, and — dada — he'll never presume to ask or refer to himself as her daddy — dada, yes, dada — despite being over the moon in epic love with her mother, and despite his adoration of Serena, because he's got these crazy old world manners."

Serena let go of the empty bottle and reached for the screen.

"Is that dada?"

She nodded, blue eyes stuck on the picture. Her voice came out quiet and high at the same time.

"Da."

* * *

Dorian came up on the pair silently with no doubt at least one of them recognized his presence; maintaining stealth around an Original vampire was damn near impossible.

"Something interesting about that jar?" He called from the hill.

Bonnie lifted her gaze from the empty glass.

"Not anymore," Kol spun the jar between his fingers. "The wil'o the wisp has been destroyed; burned up in the sun."

"The whole thing was a little anti-climactic." She tangled a creeping vine around her fingers and leaned against the pillar. The energy of her ancestors and their coven thrummed in the air. The power in terms of volume paled to the magical charge of New Orleans and yet it was more. These were her ancestors and hers alone.

No other witch would ever draw on their power as she could. With so many involved Bonnie's traps proved inescapable to most.

"You had one caged and you killed it?" Dorian hoisted his bag higher and sipped his coffee.

"It didn't speak," Kol shrugged.

"And now the next one will come on the human's watch."

"You don't know that," Bonnie murmured, breaking the vine in her hand. "Sometimes they take a few days to show."

"And other times they spawn in a number of hours. Have you got the knife?" He held out his hand when Bonnie offered up the prize hilt first.

"I fixed up a new trap too. There's a can inside with flowers and herbs; all you've got to do is catch the next one in a circle of it."

"Got it," he nodded. "Have you got big plans for the evening?"

"Lesson planning since Caroline still hasn't replaced her magical history and chemistry of magic teachers." Kol shrugged, rolling his eyes.

"I've got a new spell I want to tweak that might bring back Elena's lost memory," Bonnie crossed her arms to hold her sweater closed. A dozen spells in five months after Davina's failed to yield results and not one of them had been effective.

"Didn't the last one give her a three day migraine?"

Not positively effective.

"That's why I'm tweaking this one until it's perfect."

* * *

"Do I need to confiscate your phone?"

His voice broke the spell being gaze on the three dots dancing across the screen. She looked at him and snorted a laugh.

"We both know if you have my phone the messages will go just as fast if not faster." The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I wouldn't be surprised if every too quick movement I've seen from the corner of my eye has been you with your phone."

"Are you accusing me of texting and driving?" Amusement danced in his eyes. "There are laws against that sort of thing."

"When has law ever stopped you?" Her lashes fluttered.

"I'll have you know I followed the letter of the law as a human."

"So it's only been a thousand years," she poked his arm with her phone.

"I've lost track of how many I've broken," he hummed. "What's a few traffic laws on top?"

He loved fast, snatching her phone.

"Hey," she cried, scrambling across the console.

He held her phone just out of reach. His eyes flickered from the road to her pout inches from his cheek. It would have been nothing to turn his head and capture her full lips, but his faith in his supernatural reflexes only extended so far. She had, after all, crippled his senses more than once without effort.

"You are going to overwhelm Hope with messages," he nudged her cheek.

"I've only sent four." She dropped her hand to his thigh for balance. "How many have you sent?"

"Only two." He slipped her phone in his jacket pocket.

"And were they longer or shorter than the _Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire_?" She settled back as he took a turn.

"I was merely reminding her of the bedtime routine, and letting her know that she's started trying to dunk her head under water."

"You said she knew the routine. Do I need to send her the schedule?" She worried her bottom lip. "No, I wrote everything down. You watched me laminate it and give it to her."

She slapped at his arm lightly.

He took one hand off the wheel to hold her palm, lifting her fingers to lay a kiss on her knuckles. He gave her a half smile, acknowledging her right to call him a hypocrite.

"I wanted to make sure she had a backup, in case."

"At least I have the excuse of hormones," she shook her head. "Give me the phone, now please. I wanna say goodnight."

"I will give you the phone to say goodnight at 6:45, when it's near bedtime."

"What if she forgets what our voices sound like?" Ten years ago she would have been embarrassed at the whine in her voice, but after more than one midnight meltdown and half a year of what could only be considered co-parenting a very sweet, if grey hair inducing, baby girl she found mortification exhausting and not worth her time.

"She's not going to forget us in two hours, Elena." His thumb smoothed over the fine lines of her palm. "She's spent longer with Hope while you've been teaching."

"What if we call before dinner? Where are we going anyway? I feel underdressed." She fingered the skirt of her dress.

"Before dinner," he agreed, "which is at Del Mar, and you look perfect."

"You said that last week when I was wearing ragged sweatpants and a stained t-shirt," she arched an eyebrow.

"You looked perfect the too," he smirked.

"I had spit up in my hair," she laughed, rolling her eyes.

"I stand by my assessment."

* * *

Long vines crept over the neglected lawn, feather soft, twisting through the dirt. They rose, swaying snakelike, and wrapped around the doorknob. A second vine pushed into the keyhole, picking the lock.

Cool spring air scattered dry twigs through the entry. The woman that entered avoided them all. Floorboards creaked under her feet, muffled by her shinning tree cloak.

A beam of moonlight cut through the darkness, glinting on a sharp knife atop a stack of old books.

She went for it, crossing the room and reaching out; her hand stopped at a barrier and her spine stiffened. She turned slowly, assessing her situation; a line of flowers and herbs trapped her in a wide circle.

She lowered her hood to glare, revealing red hair and pale skin.

The man watched her closely, warily, and pressed a black box to his ear.

She swept the folds of her foliage crafted skirt closed. Rage pulsed through her body, making dark vines glow across her cheeks; they grew and flared beneath her skin.

"You deceived me," she snarled. Surprise flickered in the man's wide eyes.

It had felt like a blink in the dark, and an eternity in solitude; a second since her imprisonment and centuries without open air.

And here she stood, trapped again.

By a clueless man.

"Ric?" He breathed, a slight tremor in his voice. "I got one that talks."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt : Elena is pregnant and Damon is dead. This take place in The Original season 5×12, when Elijah was in mystic falls and visit Elena. You can also show that once again her Blood save the originals. They capture the hollow in a vessel. Like this Klaroline will also get justice and Hope will have her father. Bonnie is with Kol. Elijah offer to support Elena and the baby. Love blossom and everone get a happy ending.
> 
> I've kind of runaway with this prompt. :)


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